THE  ARTISTIC  CRAFTS 


SERIES  OF  TECHNICAL 


HANDBOOKS  EDITED 


BY  W.  R.  LETHABY 


I 

1 


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in  2016  with  funding  from 

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https  ://arch  i ve  .org/detai  Is/stai  nedg  lassworkOOwhal 


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THE  ARTISTIC  CRAFTS  SERIES  OF 
TECHNICAL  HANDBOOKS. 

Edited  by  W.  R.  Lethaby. 

'T'HE  series  will  appeal  to  handicraftsmen  in  the  industrial 
and  mechanic  arts.  It  consists  of  authoritative  state- 
ments by  experts  in  every  field  for  the  exercise  of  ingenuity, 
taste,  imagination — the  whole  sphere  of  the  so-called  “de- 
pendent arts.” 


BOOKBINDING  AND  THE  CARE  OF 

BOOKS.  A Handbook  for  Amateurs,  Bookbinders, 
and  Librarians.  By  Douglas  Cockerell.  With 
120  Illustrations  and  Diagrams  by  Noel  Rooke,  and 
8 collotype  reproductions  of  binding.  l2mo. 
$1.25  net  ; postage,  12  cents  additional. 

SILVERWORK  AND  JEWELRY.  A Text- 

Book  for  Students  and  Workers  in  Metal.  By  H. 
Wilson.  With  160  Diagrams  and  16  full-page 
Illustrations.  i2mo.  $1.40  net  5 postage,  12  cents 
additional. 

WOOD  CARVING:  DESIGN  AND 

WORKMANSHIP.  By  George  Jack.  With 
Drawings  by  the  Author  and  other  Illustrations. 

STAINED-GLASS  WORK.  A Text-Book  for 
Students  and  Workers  in  Glass.  By  C.  W.  Whall. 
With  Diagrams  by  two  of  his  Apprentices,  and 
other  Illustrations.  $1.40  net. 


D.  APPLETON  AND  COMPANY,  NEW  YORK. 


“ . . . And  remembering  these,  trust  Pindar  for  the 
truth  of  his  saying , that  to  the  cunning  workman — ( and 
let  me  solemnly  enforce  the  words  by  adding , that  to  him 
only ) — knowledge  comes  undeceitful.” 

— Ruskin  (“Aratra  Pentelici  ”), 

“ ‘ Very  cool  of  Tom,’  as  East  thought  but  didn’t  say , 
‘ seeing  as  how  he  only  came  out  of  Egypt  himself  last 
night  at  bed-time .’  ” 

—(“Tom  Brown’s  Schooldays”). 


THE  ARTISTIC  CRAFTS  SERIES 
OF  TECHNICAL  HANDBOOKS 
EDITED  BY  W.  R.  LETHABY 


STAINED  GLASS  WORK 


Frontispiece 


Cutting  and  Glazing 


(Step.  137) 


mmniiii'iiu 


STAINED  GLASS 
WORK 

A TEXT-BOOK  FOR  STUDENTS 
AND  WORKERS  IN  GLASS.  BY 
C.W.WHALL.  WITH  DIAGRAMS 
BY  TWO  OF  HIS  APPRENTICES 
AND  OTHER  ILLUSTRATIONS 


NEW  YORK 

D.  APPLETON  AND  COMPANY 
I9°5 


Published.  May , 1905 


To  his  Pupils  and  Assistants , who,  if  they 
have  learned  as  much  from  him  as  he  has 
from  them , have  spent  their  time  profitably  ; 
and  who,  if  they  have  enjoyed  learning  as 
much  as  he  has  teaching,  have  spent  it  happily  ; 
this  little  booh  is  Dedicated  by  their  Affectionate 
Master  and  Servant, 


THE  AUTHOR. 


EDITOR’S  PREFACE 

In  issuing  these  volumes  of  a series  of 
Handbooks  on  the  Artistic  Crafts,  it  will 
be  well  to  state  what  are  our  general 
aims. 

In  the  first  place,  we  wish  to  provide 
trustworthy  text-books  of  workshop  prac- 
tice, from  the  points  of  view  of  experts 
who  have  critically  examined  the  methods 
current  in  the  shops,  and  putting  aside 
vain  survivals,  are  prepared  to  say  what 
is  good  workmanship,  and  to  set  up  a 
standard  of  quality  in  the  crafts  which 
are  more  especially  associated  with  de- 
sign. Secondly,  in  doing  this,  we  hope 
to  treat  design  itself  as  an  essential  part 
of  good  workmanship.  During  the  last 
century  most  of  the  arts,  save  painting 
and  sculpture  of  an  academic  kind,  were 
little  considered,  and  there  was  a tendency 
to  look  on  “design”  as  a mere  matter 
xi 


Editor’s 

Preface 


Editor’s 

Preface 


of  appearance . Such  “ ornamentation  ” as 
there  was  was  usually  obtained  by  following 
in  a mechanical  way  a drawing  provided 
by  an  artist  who  often  knew  little  of 
the  technical  processes  involved  in  pro- 
duction. With  the  critical  attention  given 
to  the  crafts  by  Ruskin  and  Morris,  it 
came  to  be  seen  that  it  was  impossible 
to  detach  design  from  craft  in  this  way, 
and  that,  in  the  widest  sense,  true  design 
is  an  inseparable  element  of  good  qua- 
lity, involving  as  it  does  the  selection  of 
good  and  suitable  material,  contrivance 
for  special  purpose,  expert  workmanship, 
proper  finish,  and  so  on,  far  more  than 
mere  ornament,  and  indeed,  that  orna- 
mentation itself  was  rather  an  exuberance 
of  fine  workmanship  than  a matter  of 
merely  abstract  lines.  Workmanship  when 
separated  by  too  wide  a gulf  from  fresh 
thought — that  is,  from  design — inevitably 
decays,  and,  on  the  other  hand,  ornamen- 
tation, divorced  from  workmanship,  is 
necessarily  unreal,  and  quickly  falls  into 
affectation.  Proper  ornamentation  may 
be  defined  as  a language  addressed  to  the 
eye ; it  is  pleasant  thought  expressed  in 
the  speech  of  the  tool. 

In  the  third  place,  we  would  have  this 
xii 


series  put  artistic  craftsmanship  before 
people  as  furnishing  reasonable  occupa- 
tions for  those  who  would  gain  a liveli- 
hood. Although  within  the  bounds  of 
academic  art,  the  competition,  of  its  kind, 
is  so  acute  that  only  a very  few  per  cent, 
can  fairly  hope  to  succeed  as  painters  and 
sculptors  ; yet,  as  artistic  craftsmen,  there 
is  every  probability  that  nearly  every 
one  who  would  pass  through  a sufficient 
period  of  apprenticeship  to  workman- 
ship and  design  would  reach  a measure 
of  success. 

In  the  blending  of  handwork  and 
thought  in  such  arts  as  we  propose  to 
deal  with,  happy  careers  may  be  found 
as  far  removed  from  the  dreary  routine 
of  hack  labour  as  from  the  terrible  un- 
certainty of  academic  art.  It  is  desirable 
in  every  way  that  men  of  good  education 
should  be  brought  back  into  the  produc- 
tive crafts  : there  are  more  than  enough 
of  us  “ in  the  city,”  and  it  is  probable 
that  more  consideration  will  be  given  in 
this  century  than  in  the  last  to  Design 
and  Workmanship. 


Our  last  volume  dealt  with  one  of  the 
xiii 


Editor’s 

Preface 


Editor’s  branches  of  sculpture,  the  present  treats  of 
Preface  one  Qf  the  chief  forms  of  painting.  Glass- 
painting has  been,  and  is  capable  of  again 
becoming,  one  of  the  most  noble  forms  of 
Art.  Because  of  its  subjection  to  strict 
conditions,  and  its  special  glory  of  illumi- 
nated colour,  it  holds  a supreme  position  in 
its  association  with  architecture,  a position 
higher  than  any  other  art,  except,  perhaps, 
mosaic  and  sculpture. 

The  conditions  and  aptitudes  of  the 
Art  are  most  suggestively  discussed  in  the 
present  volume  by  one  who  is  not  only  an 
artist,  but  also  a master  craftsman.  The 
great  question  of  colour  has  been  here 
opened  up  for  the  first  time  in  our  series, 
and  it  is  well  that  it  should  be  so,  in  con- 
nection with  this,  the  pre-eminent  colour- 
art. 

Windows  of  coloured  glass  were  used 
by  the  Romans.  The  thick  lattices  found 
in  Arab  art,  in  which  brightly-coloured 
morsels  of  glass  are  set,  and  upon  which 
the  idea  of  the  jewelled  windows  in  the 
story  of  Aladdin  is  doubtless  based,  are 
Eastern  off-shoots  from  this  root. 

Painting  in  line  and  shade  on  glass  was 
probably  invented  in  the  West  not  later 
than  the  year  1100,  and  there  are  in 
xiv 


France  many  examples,  at  Chartres,  Le 
Mans,  and  other  places,  which  date  back 
to  the  middle  of  the  twelfth  century. 

Theophilus,  the  twelfth-century  writer 
on  Art,  tells  us  that  the  French  glass  was 
the  most  famous.  In  England  the  first 
notice  of  stained  glass  is  in  connection 
with  Bishop  Hugh’s  work  at  Durham,  of 
which  we  are  told  that  around  the  altar 
he  placed  several  glazed  windows  remark- 
able for  the  beauty  of  the  figures  which 
they  contained;  this  was  about  1175. 

In  the  Fabric  Accounts  of  our  national 
monuments  many  interesting  facts  as  to 
mediaeval  stained  glass  are  preserved.  The 
accounts  of  the  building  of  St.  Stephen’s 
Chapel,  in  the  middle  of  the  fourteenth 
century,  make  known  to  us  the  procedure 
of  the  mediaeval  craftsmen.  We  find  in 
these  first  a workman  preparing  white 
boards,  and  then  the  master  glazier  draw- 
ing the  cartoons  on  the  whitened  boards, 
and  many  other  details  as  to  customs, 
prices,  and  wages. 

There  is  not  much  old  glass  to  be 
studied  in  London,  but  in  the  museum  at 
South  Kensington  there  are  specimens  of 
some  of  the  principal  varieties.  These 
are  to  be  found  in  the  Furniture  corridor 


Editor’s 

Preface 


XV 


Editor’s 

Preface 


and  the  corridor  which  leads  from  it. 
Close  by  a fine  series  of  English  coats  of 
arms  of  the  fourteenth  century,  which  are 
excellent  examples  of  Heraldry,  is  placed 
a fragment  of  a broad  border  probably  of 
late  twelfth-century  work.  The  thirteenth 
century  is  represented  by  a remarkable 
collection,  mostly  from  the  Ste.  Chapelle 
in  Paris  and  executed  about  1248.  The 
most  striking  of  these  remnants  show  a 
series  of  Kings  seated  amidst  bold  scrolls 
of  foliage,  being  parts  of  a Jesse  Tree, 
the  narrower  strips,  in  which  are  Prophets, 
were  placed  to  the  right  and  left  of  the 
Kings,  and  all  three  made  up  the  width  of 
one  light  in  the  original  window.  The 
deep  brilliant  colour,  the  small  pieces  of 
glass  used,  and  the  rich  backgrounds 
are  all  characteristic  of  mid-thirteenth- 
century  glazing.  Of  early  fifteenth-cen- 
tury workmanship  are  the  large  single 
figures  standing  under  canopies,  and  these 
are  good  examples  of  English  glass  of 
this  time.  They  were  removed  from 
Winchester  College  Chapel  about  1825 
by  the  process  known  as  restoration. 

W.  R.  LETHABY. 


January  1905. 


XVI 


AUTHOR’S  PREFACE 


The  author  must  be  permitted  to  explain 
that  he  undertook  his  task  with  some  re- 
luctance, and  to  say  a word  by  way  of 
explaining  his  position. 

I have  always  held  that  no  art  can  be 
taught  by  books,  and  that  an  artist’s  best 
way  of  teaching  is  directly  and  personally 
to  his  own  pupils,  and  maintained  these 
things  stubbornly  and  for  long  to  those 
who  wished  this  book  written.  But  I 
have  such  respect  for  the  good  judgment 
of  those  who  have,  during  the  last  eight 
years,  worked  in  the  teaching  side  of 
the  art  and  craft  movement,  and,  in 
furtherance  of  its  objects,  have  com- 
menced this  series  of  handbooks,  and 
such  a belief  in  the  movement,  of  which 
these  persons  and  circumstances  form  a 
part,  that  I felt  bound  to  yield  on  the 
condition  of  saying  just  what  I liked  in 
xvii  B 


Author’s 

Preface 


Author’s 

Preface 


my  own  way,  and  addressing  myself  only 
to  students,  speaking  as  I would  speak 
to  a class  or  at  the  bench,  careless  of  the 
general  reader. 

You  will  find  yourself,  therefore,  reader, 
addressed  as  “Dear  Student.”  (I  know 
the  term  occurs  further  on.)  But  because 
this  book  is  written  for  students,  it  does 
not  therefore  mean  that  it  must  all  be 
brought  within  the  comprehension  of  the 
youngest  apprentice.  For  it  is  becoming 
the  fashion,  in  our  days,  for  artists  of 
merit  — painters,  perhaps,  even  of  dis- 
tinction— to  take  up  the  practice  of  one 
or  other  of  the  crafts.  All  would  be 
well,  for  such  new  workers  are  needed, 
if  it  was  indeed  the  practice  of  the  craft 
that  they  set  themselves  to.  But  too 
often  it  is  what  is  called  the  designing  for 
it  only  in  which  they  engage,  and  it  is 
the  duty  of  every  one  speaking  or  writing 
about  the  matter  to  point  out  how  fatal 
is  that  error. 

One  must  provide  a word,  then,  for  such 
as  these  also  here  if  one  can. 

Indeed,  to  reckon  up  all  the  classes  to 
whom  such  a book  as  this  should  be 
addressed,  we  should  have,  I think,  to 
name  : — 

xviii 


(1)  The  worker  in  the  ordinary  “ shop,” 
who  is  learning  there  at  present,  to  our 
regret,  only  a portion  of  his  craft,  and 
who  should  be  given  an  insight  into  the 
whole,  and  into  the  fairyland  of  design. 

(2)  The  magnificent  and  superior  artist, 
mature  in  imagination  and  composition, 
fully  equipped  as  a painter  of  pictures, 
perhaps  even  of  academical  distinction, 
who  turns  his  attention  to  the  craft,  and 
without  any  adequate  practical  training 
in  it,  which  alone  could  teach  its  right 
principles,  makes,  and  in  the  nature  of 
things  is  bound  to  make,  great  mistakes — 
mistakes  easily  avoidable.  No  such  thing 
can  possibly  be  right.  Raphael  himself 
designed  for  tapestry,  and  the  cartoons  are 
priceless,  but  the  tapestry  a ghastly  failure. 
It  could  not  have  been  otherwise  under 
the  conditions.  Executant  separated  from 
designer  by  all  the  leagues  that  lie  between 
Arras  and  Rome. 

(3)  The  patron,  who  should  know 
something  of  the  craft,  that  he  may  not, 
mistrusting,  as  so  often  at  present,  his  own 
taste,  be  compelled  to  trust  to  some  one 
else’s  Name,  and  of  course  looks  out  for 
a big  one. 

(4)  The  architect  and  church  digni- 

xix 


Author’s 

Preface 


Author’s 

Preface 


tary  who,  having  such  grave  responsibilities 
in  their  hands  towards  the  buildings  of 
which  they  are  the  guardians,  wish,  natu- 
rally, to  understand  the  details  which  form 
a part  of  their  charge.  And  lastly,  a new 
and  important  class  that  has  lately  sprung 
into  existence,  the  well-equipped,  picked 
student  — brilliant  and  be-medalled,  able 
draughtsman,  able  painter;  young,  thought- 
ful, ambitious,  and  educated,  who,  instead 
of  drifting,  as  till  recently,  into  the  over- 
crowded ranks  of  picture-making,  has  now 
the  opportunity  of  choosing  other  weapons 
in  the  armoury  of  the  arts. 

To  all  these  classes  apply  those  golden 
words  from  Ruskin’s  “ Aratra  Pentelici” 
which  are  quoted  on  the  fly-leaf  of  the 
present  volume,  while  the  spirit  in  which 
I myself  would  write  in  amplifying  them 
is  implied  by  my  adopting  the  comment 
and  warning  expressed  in  the  other  sen- 
tence there  quoted.  The  face  of  the  arts 
is  in  a state  of  change.  The  words 
“ craft  ” and  “ craftsmanship,”  unheard  a 
decade  or  two  ago,  now  fill  the  air ; we 
are  none  of  us  inheritors  of  any  worthy 
tradition,  and  those  who  have  chanced  to 
grope  about  for  themselves,  and  seem  to 
have  found  some  safe  footing,  have  very 
xx 


little,  it  seems  to  me,  to  plume  or  pride 
themselves  upon,  but  only  something  to 
be  thankful  for  in  their  good  luck.  But 
il  to  have  learnt  faithfully  ” one  of  the 
“ ingenuous  arts  ” (or  crafts)  is  good  luck 
and  is  firm  footing  ; we  may  not  doubt  it 
who  feel  it  strong  beneath  our  feet,  and 
it  must  be  proper  to  us  to  help  towards  it 
the  doubtless  quite  as  worthy  or  worthier, 
but  less  fortunate,  who  may  yet  be  in 
some  of  the  quicksands  around. 

It  also  happens  that  the  art  of  stained 
glass,  though  reaching  to  very  high  and 
great  things,  is  in  its  methods  and  pro- 
cesses a simple,  or  at  least  a very  limited, 
one.  There  are  but  few  things  to  do, 
while  at  the  same  time  the  principles  of 
it  touch  the  whole  field  of  art,  and  it  is 
impossible  to  treat  of  it  without  discussing 
these  great  matters  and  the  laws  which 
guide  decorative  art  generally.  It  happens 
conveniently,  therefore,  as  the  technical 
part  requires  less  space,  that  these  things 
should  be  treated  of  in  this  particular 
book,  and  it  becomes  the  author’s  delicate 
and  difficult  task  to  do  so.  He,  there- 
fore, wishes  to  make  clear  at  starting  the 
spirit  in  which  the  task  is  undertaken. 

It  remains  only  to  express  his  thanks 
xxi 


Author’s 

Preface 


Author’s 

Preface 


to  Mr.  Drury  and  Mr.  Noel  Heaton  for 
help  respectively,  with  the  technical  and 
scientific  detail ; to  Mr.  St.  John  Hope 
for  permission  to  use  his  reproductions 
from  the  Windsor  stall-plates,  and  to  Mr. 
Selwyn  Image  for  his  great  kindness  in 
revising  the  proofs. 

C.  W.  WHALL. 

January  1905. 


XXII 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 

Editor’s  Preface xi 

Author’s  Preface xvii 

PART  I 

CHAPTER  I 

Introductory,  and  Concerning  the  Raw  Material  . 29 

CHAPTER  II 

Cutting  (elementary) — The  Diamond — The  Wheel — 
Sharpening — How  to  Cut — Amount  of  Force — 

The  Beginner’s  Mistake — Tapping — Possible  and 
Impossible  Cuts — “Grozeing”  — Defects  of  the 
Wheel  — The  Actual  Nature  of  a “Cut”  in 
Glass 33 


CHAPTER  III 

Painting  (elementary) — Pigments — Mixing — How  to 
Fill  the  Brush — Outline — Examples — Industry— 

The  Needle  and  Stick — Completing  the  Outline  . 56 

xxiii 


Contents 


Contents  CHAPTER  IV 

PAGE 

Matting — Badgering — How  to  preserve  Correctness  of 
Outline — Difficulty  of  Large  Work — Ill-ground 
Pigment — The  Muller — Overground  Pigment — 
Taking  out  Lights — “Scrubs” — The  Need  of  a 
Master 72 

CHAPTER  V 

Cutting  (advanced)-— The  Ideal  Cartoon— The  Cut- 
line— Setting  the  Cartoon — Transferring  the  Cut- 
line to  the  Glass — Another  Way — Some  Principles 
of  Taste — Countercharging 83 

CHAPTER  VI 

Painting  (advanced)  — Waxing-up  — Cleanliness  — 
Further  Methods  of  Painting  — Stipple  — Dry 
Stipple — Film — Effects  of  Distance — Danger  of 
Over- Painting — Frying 94 

CHAPTER  VII 

Firing — Three  Kinds  of  Kiln — Advantages  and  Disad- 
vantages— The  Gas-Kiln — Quick  Firing — Danger 
— Sufficient  Firing — Soft  Pigments — Difference  in 
Glasses — “Stale”  Work — The  Scientific  Facts — 

How  to  Judge  of  Firing — Drawing  the  Kiln  . 105 

CHAPTER  VIII 

The  Second  Painting — Disappointment  with  Fired 
Work — A False  Remedy — A Useful  Tool — The 
Needle — A Resource  of  Desperation — The  Middle 
Course — Use  of  the  Finger — The  Second  Painting 
— Procedure  . . . . . . .118 


XXIV 


CHAPTER  IX 


PAGE 


Contents 


Of  Staining  and  Adding — Yellow  Stain — Adding — 
Caution  required  in  Use — Remedy  for  Burning 
— Uses  of  Adding — Other  Resources  of  Stained 
Glass  Work 129 


CHAPTER  X 

Leading-Up  and  Fixing — Setting  out  the  Bench — 
Relation  of  Leading  to  mode  of  Fixing  in  the 
Stone — Process  of  Fixing — Leading-Up  Resumed 
— Straightening  the  Lead — The  “Lathykin” — 

The  Cutting-Knife — The  Nails — The  Stopping- 
Knife — Knocking  Up 133 

CHAPTER  XI 

Soldering — Handling  the  Leaded  Panel — Cementing 
— Recipe  for  Cement — The  Brush — Division  of 
Long  Lights  into  Sections — How  Joined  when 
Fixed — Banding — Fixing — Chipping  out  the  Old 
Glazing — Inserting  the  New  and  Cementing  . 144 


PART  II 

CHAPTER  XII 

Introductory — The  Great  Questions — Colour — Light 
— Architectural  Fitness — Limitations — Thought 
— Imagination — Allegory 154 

CHAPTER  XIII 

Of  Economy — The  Englishman’s  Wastefulness — Its 
Good  Side — Its  Excess — Difficulties — A Calcu- 
lation— Remedies 156 


XXV 


Contents 


CHAPTER  XIV 


PAGB 


Of  Perfection — In  Little  Things — Cleanliness — Alert- 
ness— But  not  Hurry — Realising  your  Conditions 
— False  Lead-Lines — Shutting  out  Light — Bars — 

Their  Number — Their  Importance — Precedence 
— Observing  your  Limitations  — A Result  of 
Complete  Training — The  Special  Limitations  of 
Stained  Glass — Disguising  the  Lead-Line — No  full 
Realism — No  violent  Action — Self-Effacement — 

No  Craft- Jugglery — Architectural  Fitness  founded 
on  Architectural  Knowledge — Seeing  Work  in 
Situ — Sketching  in  Glass — The  Artistic  Use  of 
the  Lead — Stepping  Back — Accepting  Bars  and 
Leads — Loving  Care — White  Spaces  to  be  In- 
teresting— Bringing  out  the  “ Quality  ” of  the 
Glass — Spotting  and  Dappling — “ Builders-Glaz- 
ing  ” versus  Modern  Restoring  . . . .163 

CHAPTER  XV 

A Few  Little  Dodges — A Clumsy  Tool — A Sub- 
stitute— A Glass  Rack — An  Inconvenient  Easel 
— A Convenient  Easel — A Waxing-up  Tool — 

An  Easel  with  Movable  Plates — Making  the 
most  of  a Room — Handling  Cartoons — Clean- 
liness — Dust  — The  Selvage  Edge  — Drying  a 
“ Badger” — A Comment 182 

CHAPTER  XVI 

Of  Colour 198 

CHAPTER  XVII 

Of  Architectural  Fitness 234 

xxvi 


CHAPTER  XVIII 


PAGE 


Contents 


Of  Thought,  Imagination,  and  Allegory  . . . 248 

CHAPTER  XIX 

Of  General  Conduct  and  Procedure — Amount  of 
Legitimate  Assistance — The  Ordinary  Practice 
— The  Great  Rule — The  Second  Great  Rule — 

Four  Things  to  Observe — Art  v.  Routine — The 
Truth  of  the  Case — The  Penalty  of  Virtue  in 
the  Matter  — The  Compensating  Privilege  — 
Practical  Applications — An  Economy  of  Time 
in  the  Studio — Industry — Work  “To  Order” — 

— Clients  and  Patrons — And  Requests  Reason- 
able and  Unreasonable — The  Chief  Difficulty  the 
Chief  Opportunity — But  ascertain  all  Conditions 
before  starting  Work — Business  Habits — Order — 
Accuracy — Setting  out  Cartoon  Forms — An  Artist 
must  Dream — But  Wake — Three  Plain  Rules  . 264 


CHAPTER  XX 

A String  of  Beads 290 


APPENDIX  I 

Some  Suggestions  as  to  the  Study  of  Old  Glass  . . 308 

APPENDIX  II 

On  the  Restoring  of  Ancient  Windows  . . *315 

xxvii 


Contents 


APPENDIX  III 

PAGE 

Hints  for  the  Curriculum  of  a Technical  School  for 
Stained  Glass — Examples  for  Painting — Examples 
of  Drapery — Drawing  from  Nature — Ornamental 


Design 321 

Notes  on  the  Collotype  Plates  . . . 327 

The  Collotype  Plates 337 

Glossary 369 

Index 373 


XXV111 


PART  I 


CHAPTER  I 

INTRODUCTORY,  AND  CONCERNING 
THE  RAW  MATERIAL 

You  are  to  know  that  stained  glass  means 
pieces  of  coloured  glasses  put  together  with 
strips  of  lead  into  the  form  of  windows  ; 
not  a picture  painted  on  glass  with  coloured 
paints. 

You  know  that  a beer  bottle  is 
blackish,  a hock  bottle  orange-brown,  a 
soda-water  bottle  greenish-white  — these 
are  the  colours  of  the  whole  substance 
of  which  they  are  respectively  made. 

Break  such  a bottle,  each  little  bit  is 
still  a bit  of  coloured  glass.  So,  also, 
blue  is  used  for  poison  bottles,  deep 
green  and  deep  red  for  certain  wine 
glasses,  and,  indeed,  almost  all  colours 
for  one  purpose  or  another. 

29 


Intro- 

ductory 


Intro-  Now  these  are  the  same  glass,  and 
ductory  coloured  in  the  same  way  as  that  used 
for  church  windows. 

Such  coloured  glasses  are  cut  into  the 
shapes  of  faces,  or  figures,  or  robes,  or 
canopies,  or  whatever  you  want  and  what- 
ever the  subject  demands ; then  features 
are  painted  on  the  faces,  folds  on  the 
robes,  and  so  forth  — not  with  colour, 
merely  with  brown  shading  ; then,  when 
this  shading  has  been  burnt  into  the 
glass  in  a kiln,  the  pieces  are  put  to- 
gether into  a picture  by  means  of  grooved 
strips  of  lead,  into  which  they  fit. 

This  book,  it  is  hoped,  will  set  forth 
plainly  how  these  things  are  done,  for 
the  benefit  of  those  who  do  not  know ; 
and,  for  the  benefit  of  those  who  do 
know,  it  will  examine  and  discuss  the 
right  principles  on  which  windows  should 
be  made,  and  the  rules  of  good  taste  and 
of  imagination,  which  make  such  a differ- 
ence between  beautiful  and  vulgar  art ; 
for  you  may  know  intimately  all  the  pro- 
cesses I have  spoken  of,  and  be  skilful  in 
them,  and  yet  misapply  them,  so  that  your 
window  had  better  never  have  been  made. 

Skill  is  good  if  you  use  it  wisely  and 
for  good  end  ; but  craft  of  hand  employed 

3° 


foolishly  is  no  mohre  use  to  you  tan 
swiftness  of  foot  would  be  upon  the  broad 
road  leading  downwards — the  cripple  is 
happier. 

A clear  and  calculating  brain  may  be 
used  for  statesmanship  or  science,  or 
merely  for  gambling.  You,  we  will 
say,  have  a true  eye  and  a cunning 
hand ; will  you  use  them  on  the  passing 
fashion  of  the  hour  — the  morbid,  the 
trivial,  the  insincere— or  in  illustrating 
the  eternal  truths  and  dignities,  the 
heroisms  and  sanctities  of  life,  and  its 
innocencies  and  gaieties? 

This  book,  then,  is  divided  into  two 
parts,  of  which  the  intention  of  one  is 
to  promote  and  produce  skilfulness  of 
hand,  and  of  the  other  to  direct  it  to 
worthy  ends. 

The  making  of  glass  itself— of  the 
raw  material — the  coloured  glasses  used 
in  stained-glass  windows,  cannot  be  treated 
of  here.  What  are  called  “Antiques” 
are  chiefly  used,  and  there  are  also  special 
glasses  representing  the  ideals  and  ex- 
periments of  enthusiasts — Prior’s  “ Early 
English  ” glass,  and  the  somewhat  similar 
“Norman”  glass.  These  glasses,  however, 
are  for  craftsmen  of  experience  to  use : they 

3i 


Intro- 

ductory 


Intro-  require  mature  skill  and  judgment  in  the 

chietory  using  ; to  the  beginner,  “ Antiques  ” are 

enough  for  many  a day  to  come. 

How  to  know  the  Right  and  Wrong  Sides 
of  a Piece  of  “Antique”  Glass. — Take  up 
a sheet  of  one  of  these  and  look  at  it. 
You  will  notice  that  the  two  sides  look 
different ; one  side  has  certain  little  de- 
pressions as  if  it  had  been  pricked  with 
a pin,  sometimes  also  some  wavy  streaks. 
Turn  it  round,  and,  looking  at  the  other 
side,  you  still  see  . these  things,  but 
blurred,  as  if  seen  through  water,  while 
the  surface  itself  on  this  side  looks 
smooth  ; what  inequalities  there  are  being 
projections  rather  than  depressions.  Now 
the  side  you  first  looked  at  is  the  side 
to  cut  on,  and  the  side  to  paint  on,  and 
it  is  the  side  placed  inwards  when  the 
window  is  put  up. 

The  reason  is  this.  Glass  is  made  into 
sheets  by  being  blown  into  bubbles,  just 
as  a child  blows  soap-bubbles.  If  you 
blow  a soap-bubble  you  will  see  streaks 
playing  about  in  it,  just  like  the  wavy 
streaks  you  notice  in  the  glass. 

The  bubble  is  blown,  opened  at  the 
ends,  and  manipulated  with  tools  while 
hot,  until  it  is  the  shape  of  a drain-pipe ; 

32 


then  cut  down  one  side  and  opened  out  Intro- 
upon  a flattening-stone  until  the  round  ductory 
pipe  is  a flat  sheet ; and  it  is  this  stone 
which  gives  the  glass  the  different  texture, 
the  dimpled  surface  which  you  notice. 

Some  glasses  are  “ flashed  ” ; that  is  to 
say,  a bubble  is  blown  which  is  mainly 
composed  of  white  glass  ; but,  before  blow- 
ing, it  is  also  dipped  into  another  coloured 
glass — red,  perhaps,  or  blue — and  the  two 
are  then  blown  together,  so  that  the  red 
or  blue  glass  spreads  out  into  a thin  film 
closely  united  to,  in  fact  fused  on  to, 
and  completely  one  with,  the  white  glass 
which  forms  the  base;  most  “Ruby” 
glasses  are  made  in  this  way. 


CHAPTER  II 

Cutting  (elementary) — The  Diamond — The  Wheel- 
Sharpening — How  to  Cut — Amount  of  Force 
— The  Beginner’s  Mistake — Tapping— Possible 
and  Impossible  Cuts — “ Grozeing  ” — Defects  of 
the  Wheel — The  Actual  Nature  of  a “Cut” 
in  Glass. 

No  written  directions  can  teach  the  use  Cutting 
of  the  diamond  ; it  is  as  sensitive  to  the  (elementary) 
hand  as  the  string  of  a violin,  and  a good 
c 33 


Cutting  workman  feels  with  a most  delicate 
(elementary)  touch  exactly  where  the  cutting  edge 
is,  and  uses  his  tool  accordingly. 

Every  apprentice  counts 
on  spoiling  a guinea 
diamond  in  the  learn- 
ing, which  will  take 
him  from  one  to  two 
years. 

Most  cutters  now  use 
the  wheel,  of  which  illus- 
trations are  given  (figs,  i 
and  2). 

The  wheels  themselves 
are  good  things,  and  cut 
as  well  as  the  diamond, 
in  some  respects  almost 
better ; but  many  of  the 
handles  are  very  unsatis- 
factory. From  some  of 
them  indeed  one  might 
suppose,  if  such  a thing 
were  conceivable,  that 
the  maker  knew  noth- 
ing of  the  use  of  the 
tool. 

For  it  is  held  thus  (fig.  5),  the  pres- 
sure of  the  forefinger  both  guiding  the  cut 
and  supplying  force  for  it : and  they 
34 


Figs,  i and  2. 


give  you  an  edge  to  press 
on  (fig.  i)  instead  of  a sur- 
face ! In  some  other  pat- 
terns, indeed,  they  do  give 
you  the  desired  surface, 
but  the  tool  is  so  thin  that 
there  is  nothing  to  grip. 
What  ought  to  be  done 
is  to  reproduce  the  shape 
of  the  old  wooden  handle 
of  the  diamond  proper  ” 
(figs.  3 and  4). 

The  foregoing  passage 
must,  however,  be  ampli- 
fied and  modified,  but  this 
I will  do  further  on,  for 
you  will  understand  the 
reasons  better  if  I insert  it 
after  what  I had  written 
further  with  regard  to  the 
cutting  of  glass. 

How  to  Sharpen  the  Wheel 
Cutter. — The  right  way  to 
do  this  is  difficult  to  de- 
scribe in  writing.  You 
must,  first  of  all,  grind 
down  the  “shoulders”  of 
the  tool,  through  which 
the  pivot  of  the  wheel 


Figs.  3 and  4, 


Cutting 

(elementary) 


35 


l 


Cutting  goes,  for  they  are  made  so  large  that  the 
(elementary)  wheej  cannot  reach  the  stone  (fig.  6),  and 


Fig.  5. 


must  be  reduced  (fig.  7).  Then,  after 
first  oiling  the  pivot  so  that  the  wheel 
36 


may  run  easily,  you  must  hold  the  tool 
as  shown  in  fig.  8,  and  rub  it  swiftly  up 
and  down  the  stone.  The  angle  at  which 
the  wheel  should  rest  on  the  stone  is 
shown  in  fig.  9.  You  will  see  that  the 
angle  at  which  the  wheel  meets  the  stone 
is  a little  blunter  than  the  angle  of  the 
side  of  the  wheel  itself.  You  do  not 
want  to  make  the  tool 
too  sharps  otherwise  you 
will  risk  breaking  down 
the  edge,  when  the  wheel 
will  cease  to  be  truly 
circular,  and  when  that 
occurs  it  is  absolutely 
useless.  The  same  thing 
will  happen  if  the  wheel 
is  checked  in  its  revolu- 
tion while  sharpening, 
and  therefore  the  pivot  must  be  kept 
oiled  both  for  cutting  and  sharpening. 

It  is  a curious  fact  to  notice  that  the 
tool,  be  it  wheel  or  diamond,  that  is  too 
sharp  is  not,  in  practice,  found  to  make 
so  good  a cut  as  one  that  is  less  sharp  ; 
it  scratches  the  glass  and  throws  up  a 
line  of  splinters. 

How  to  Cut  Glass.— Hold  the  cutter  as 
shown  in  the  illustration  (fig.  5),  a little 

37 


Figs.  6 and  7. 


Cutting 

(elementary) 


Cutting  sloping  towards  you,  but  perfectly  upright 
(elementary)  laterally;  draw  it  towards  you,  hard 
enough  to  make  it  just  bite  the  glass.  If 
it  leaves  a mark  you  can  hardly  see  it  is 
a good  cut  (fig.  iob),  but  if  it  scratches 


a white  line,  throwing  up  glass-dust  as  it 
goes,  either  the  tool  is  faulty,  or  you  are 
pressing  too  hard,  or  you  are  applying 
the  pressure  to  the  wheel  unevenly  and 
at  an  angle  to  the  direction  of  the  cut 
(fig.  ioa).  Not  that  you  can  make  the 
wheel  move  sideways  in  the  cut  actually ; 
38 


it  will  keep  itself  straight  as  a ploughshare 
keeps  in  its  furrow,  but  it  will  press  side- 
ways, and  so  break  down 
the  edges  of  the  furrow, 
while  if  you  exaggerate 
this  enough  it  will  actually 
leave  the  furrow,  and, 
ceasing  to  cut,  will  “skid  ” 
aside  over  the  glass.  As 
to  pressure,  all  cutters  begin  by  pressing 
much  too  hard  ; the  tool  having  started 


biting,  it  should  be  kept  only  just  biting 
while  drawn  along.  The  cut  should  be 


39 


Cutting 

(elementary) 


Cutting  almost  noiseless . You  think  you’re  not  cut- 
( elementary)  ting  because  you  don’t  hear  it  grate,  but 
hold  the  glass  sideways  to  the  light  and 
you  will  see  the  silver  line  quite  continuous. 


Fig.  ii. 


Having  made  your  cut,  take  the  glass 
up;  hold  it  as  in  fig.  n,  press  downward 
with  the  thumbs  and  upward  with  the 
fingers,  and  the  glass  will  come  apart. 

But  you  want  to  cut  shaped  pieces  as 
40 


well  as  straight.  You  cannot  break  these  Cutting 
directly  the  cut  is  made,  but,  holding  the  (elementary) 
glass  as  in  fig.  12,  and  pressing  it  firmly 
with  the  left  thumb,  jerk  the  tool  up  by 
little,  sharp  jerks  of  the  fingers  only,  so 


as  to  tap  along  the  underside  of  your 
cut.  You  will  see  a little  silver  line 
spring  along  the  cut,  showing  that  the 
glass  is  dividing ; and  when  that  silver 
line  has  sprung  from  end  to  end,  a gentle 
pressure  will  bring  the  glass  apart. 


4i 


Cutting  This  upward  jerk  must  be  sharp  and 
(elementary)  swift,  but  must  be  calculated  so  as  only 
just  to  reach  the  glass,  being  checked  just 
at  the  right  point,  as  one  hammers  a 
nail  when  one  does  not  want  to  stir  the 
work  into  which  the  nail  is  driven.  A 
pushing  stroke,  a blow  that  would  go 


much  further  if  the  glass  were  not  there, 
is  no  use ; and  for  this  reason  neither 
the  elbow  nor  the  hand  must  move ; the 
knuckles  are  the  hinge  upon  which  the 
stroke  revolves. 

But  you  can  only  cut  certain  shapes — 
for  instance,  you  cannot  cut  a wedge- 
shaped  gap  out  of  a piece  of  glass  (fig. 
1 3)  ; however  tenderly  you  handle  it,  it 

42 


will  split  at  point  A.  The  nearest  you  Cutting 

can  go  to  it  is  a curve;  and  the  deeper  (elementary) 

the  curve  the  more  difficult  it  is  to  get 

the  piece  out.  In  fig.  14  A is  an  average 

easy  curve,  B a difficult  one,  C impossible, 

except  by  “ groseing  ” or  “ grozeing  ” as 

cutters  call  it ; that  is,  after  the  cut  is 

made,  setting  to  work  to  patiently  bite 

the  piece  out  with  pliers  (fig.  15). 


Now,  further,  you  must  understand  that 
you  must  not  cut  round  all  the  sides  of  a 
shaped  piece  of  glass  at  once  ; indeed,  you 
must  only  cut  one  side  at  a time,  and  draw 
your  cut  right  up  to  the  edge  of  the  glass, 
and  break  away  the  whole  piece  which 
contains  the  side  you  are  cutting  before 
you  go  on  to  another. 

Thus,  in  fig.  16,  suppose  the  shaded 

43 


Cutting  portion  to  be  the  shape  that  you  wish  to 
(elementary)  cut  out  Qf  t}le  piece  Qf  glass,  A,  B,  C,  D. 

You  must  lay  your  gauge  angle  wise  down 
upon  the  piece.  Do  not  try  to  get  the 
sides  parallel  to  the  shapes  of  your  gauge, 
for  that  makes  it  much  more  difficult ; 
angular  pieces  break  off  the  easiest 


Fig.  16. 


Now,  then,  cut  the  most  difficult  piece  first. 
That  marked  i.  Perhaps  you  will  not 
cut  it  quite  true  ; but,  if  not,  then  shift 
the  gauge  slightly  on  to  another  part  of 
the  curve,  and  very  likely  it  may  fit  that 
better  and  so  come  true. 

Then  follow  with  one  of  those  marked 
44 


2 or  3.  Probably  it  would  be  safest  to  Cutting 

cut  the  larger  and  more  difficult  piece  (elementary) 

first,  and  get  both  the  curved  cuts  right  by 

your  gauge ; then  you  can  be  quite  sure 

of  getting  the  very  easy  small  bit  off  quite 

truly,  to  fit  into  its  place  with  both  of 

them.  Go  on  with  4,  and  then  with  one 

of  those  marked  5 or  6.  Probably  it 

would  still  be  best  to  cut  the  curved  piece 

first,  unless  you  think  that  shortening  it 

by  cutting  off  the  small  corner-piece  first 

will  make  the  curved  cut  easier  by  making 

it  shorter. 

In  any  case  you  must  only  cut  one  side 
at  a time,  and  break  it  away  before  you 
make  the  cut  for  another  side. 

Take  care  that  you  do  not  go  back  in 
your  cut.  You  must  try  and  make  it 
quite  continuous  onwards  ; for  if  you  go 
back  in  the  cut,  where  your  tool  has 
already  thrown  up  splinters,  it  will  spoil 
your  tool  and  spoil  your  cut  also. 

Difficult  curves,  that  it  is  only  just  pos- 
sible to  get  out  by  groseing,  ought  never 
to  be  resorted  to,  except  for  some  very 
sufficient  reason.  A cartoonist  who  knows 
the  craft  will  avoid  setting  such  tasks  to 
the  cutter ; but,  unfortunately,  many 
cartoonists  do  not  know  the  craft.  If 

45 


Cutting  people  were  taught  the  complete  craft  as 
(elementary)  they  should  be,  this  book  would  not  have 
been  written. 

Here  let  me  say  that  we  cannot  pos- 
sibly within  the  narrow  limits  of  it  go 
thoroughly  into  all  the  very  wide  range 
of  subjects  connected  with  glass  — the 
chemistry,  the  permanence,  the  purity  of 
materials.  With  the  exception  of  the 
practice  of  the  craft,  probably  we  shall 
not  be  able  to  go  thoroughly  into  any  one 
of  them  ; but  I shall  endeavour  to  mention 
them  all,  and  to  do  so  sufficiently  to  in- 
dicate the  directions  in  which  work  and 
research  and  experiment  may  be  made, 
for  they  are  all  three  much  needed  in 
several  directions. 

It  becomes,  for  instance,  now  my  task, 
in  modifying  the  passage  some  pages  back 
as  I promised,  to  go  into  one  of  these 
subjects  in  the  light  of  inquiries  made 
since  the  passage  in  question  was  written  ; 
and  I let  it  for  the  time  being  stand  just 
as  it  was,  without  the  additional  informa- 
tion, because  it  gives  a picture  of  how 
such  things  crop  up  and  of  the  way  in 
which  such  investigations  may  be  made, 
and  of  how  useful  and  pleasant  they 
may  be. 

46 


Here  then  let  us  have — 

A LITTLE  DISSERTATION  UPON  CUTTING. 

Through  the  agent  for  the  wheel-cutter 
in  England  I communicated  with  the 
maker  and  inventor  in  America,  and  told 
him  of  our  difficulties  and  perplexities 
over  here,  and  chiefly  with  regard  to  two 
points.  First,  the  awkwardness  of  the 
handle,  which  causes  the  glaziers  here  to 
use  the  tool  bound  round  with  wadding,  or 
enclosed  in  a bit  of  india-rubber  pipe  ; and, 
secondly,  the  bluntness  of  the  “jaws”  which 
hold  the  wheel,  and  which  must  be  ground 
down  (and  are  in  universal  practice  ground 
down),  before  the  tool  can  be  sharpened. 

His  reply  called  attention  to  a number 
of  different  patterns  of  handle,  the  exist- 
ence of  which,  I think,  is  not  generally 
known,  in  England  at  any  rate,  and  some 
of  which  seem  to  more  or  less  meet  the 
difficulties  we  experience,  most  of  them 
also  being  made  with  malleable  iron 
handles,  so  that  fresh  cutting-wheels  can 
be  inserted  in  the  same  handle.  His 
letter  also  entered  into  the  question  of 
the  actual  dynamics  of  “ cutting,”  main- 
taining, I think  rightly,  that  a “ cut  ” 
is  made  by  the  edge  of  the  wheel  (this 

47 


Cutting 

(elementary) 


Cutting  not  being  very  sharp)  forcing  the  particles 
(elementary)  Gf  the  glass  down  into  the  mass  of  it  by 
pressure. 

With  regard  to  the  old-fashioned  pat- 
tern of  tool  which  we  chiefly  use  in  this 
country,  the  very  sufficient  explanation  is 
that  they  continue  to  make  it  because 
we  continue  to  demand  it,  a circumstance 
which,  as  he  declares,  is  a mystery  to  the 
inventor  himself ! Nevertheless,  as  we  do 
so,  and,  in  spite  of  the  variety  of  newer 
tools  on  the  market,  still  go  on  grinding 
down  the  jaws  of  our  favourite,  and  wrap- 
ping round  the  handle  with  cotton-wool, 
let  us  try  and  put  this  matter  straight, 
and  compare  our  requirements  with  the 
advantages  offered  us. 

There  are  three  chief  points  to  be 
cleared  up.  (i)  The  actual  nature  of  a 
“ cut  ” in  glass  ; (2)  the  question  of 
sharpening  the  tool  and  grinding  down  of 
the  jaws  to  do  so;  and  (3)  the  “ mys- 
tery ” of  our  preference  for  a particular 
tool,  although  we  all  confess  its  awkward- 
ness by  the  means  we  take  to  modify  it. 

(1)  With  regard,  then,  to  the  nature 
of  a “ cut  ” in  glass  I am  disposed  entirely 
to  agree  with  the  theory  put  forward  by 
the  inventor  of  the  wheel,  which  an 

48 


examination  of  the  cuts  under  the  micro-  Cutting 
scope,  or  even  a 6 diameter  lens,  certainly  (elementary) 
also  tends  to  confirm. 

What  happens  appears  to  my  non-scien- 
tific  eyes  to  be  this. 

Glass  is  one  of  the  most  fissile  or 
“ splittable  ” of  all  materials  ; but  it  is  so 
just  in  the  same  way  that  ice  is,  and  just 
in  the  opposite  way  to  that  in  which  slate 
or  talc  is. 

Slate  or  talc  splits  easily  into  thin  layers 
or  laminas,  because  it  already  lies  in  such 
layers , and  these  will  come  apart  when 
the  force  is  applied  between  them : but 
it  will  only  split  into  the  lamina  of  which 
it  already  is  composed , and  along  the  line 
of  the  fissures  which  already  exist  between 
them. 

Glass,  on  the  contrary  (and  the  same 
is  true  of  ice,  or  for  that  matter  of  cur- 
rant-jelly and  such  like  things),  appears 
to  be  a substance  which  is  the  same  in  all 
directions,  or  nearly  so,  and  therefore  as 
liable  to  split  in  one  direction  as  in  an- 
other, and  is  so  loosely  held  together  that, 
once  a splitting  force  is  applied,  the  crack 
spreads  very  rapidly  and  easily,  and  there- 
fore smoothly  and  in  straight  lines  and  in 
even  planes. 


D 


49 


Cutting  The  diamond,  or  the  wheel-cutter,  is 
(elementary)  such  a force.  Being  pressed  on  to  the 
surface,  it  forces  down  the  particles,  and 
these  start  a series  of  small  vertical  splits, 
sometimes  nearly  through  the  whole  thick- 
ness of  the  glass,  though  invisibly  so  until 
the  glass  is  separated.  And  mark,  that  it 
is  the  starting  of  the  splits  that  is  the 
important  thing ; there  is  no  object  in 
making  them  deep , it  is  only  wasted  force  ; 
they  will  continue  to  split  of  themselves 
if  encouraged  in  the  proper  way  (see 
Plates  IX.  and  X.).  Try  this  as  follows. 

Take  a bit  of  glass,  say  3 inches  by  2, 
and  make  the  very  smallest  dint  you 
can  in  it,  in  the  middle  of  the  narrowest 
dimension.  You  cannot  make  one  so 
small  that  the  glass  will  hold  together 
if  you  try  to  break  it  across.  It  will 
break  across  in  a straight  line,  springing 
from  each  end  of  the  tiny  cut.  The  cut 
may  be  only  J of  an  inch  long ; less — 
it  may  be  only  tV,  ttst — as  small  as  you 
will,  the  glass  will  break  across  just  the 
same. 

Why? 

Because  the  cut  has  started  it  splitting 
at  each  end ; and  the  material  being  the 
same  all  through,  the  split  will  go  straight 

5° 


on  in  the  direction  in  which  it  has  started  ; 
there  is  nothing  to  turn  it  aside. 

So  also  the  pressure  of  the  wheel  starts 
a continuous  split,  or  series  of  splits, 
downwards , into  the  thickness  of  the  glass. 
No  matter  how  small  a distance  these  go 
in,  the  glass  will  come  asunder  directly 
pressure  is  applied. 

Now,  if  you  press  too  hard  in  cutting, 
another  thing  takes  place. 

Imagine  a quantity  of  roofing-slates 
piled  flat  one  on  top  of  another,  all  the 
piles  being  of  equal  height  and  arranged 
in  two  rows,  side  by  side,  so  close  that 
the  edges  of  the  slates  in  one  row  touch 
the  edges  of  those  in  the  other  row,  along 
a central  line. 

Wheel  a wheelbarrow  along  that  line 
over  the  edges  of  both. 

What  would  happen  ? 

The  top  layer  of  slates  would  all  come 
cocking  their  outer  edges  up  as  the  barrow 
passed  over  their  inner  ones,  would  they 
not  ? 

Now,  just  so,  if  you  press  hard  on  your 
glass-cutting  wheel,  it  will  press  down  the 
edges  of  the  groove,  and  though  there  are 
no  layers  already  made  in  the  glass,  the 
pressure  will  split  off'  a thin  layer  from  the 

51 


Cutting 

(elementary) 


Cutting  top  surface  of  the  glass  on  each  side  in 
(elementary)  as  ^ goes  along  (Plate  X.,  D,  e). 

This  is  what  gives  the  noise  of  the  cut, 
c-r-r-r-r-r- ; and  as  the  thing  is  no  use  the 
noise  is  no  use  ; like  a good  many  other 
things  in  life,  the  less  noise  the  better 
work,  much  cry  generally  meaning  little 
wool,  as  the  man  found  out  who  shaved 
the  pig. 

But  the  wheel  or  the  diamond  is  not 
quite  the  same  as  the  wheel  of  the  wheel- 
barrow, for  it  has  a wedge-shaped  edge. 
Imagine  a barrow  with  such  a wheel ; 
what  then  would  happen  to  your  slates  ? 
besides  being  cocked  up  by  the  wheel,  they 
would  also  be  pushed  out , surely  ? 

This  happens  in  glass.  You  must  not 
imagine  that  glass  is  a rigid  thing , it  is 
very  elastic,  and  the  wedge-like  pressure 
of  the  wheel  pushes  it  out  just  as  the 
keel  of  a boat  pushes  the  water  aside  in 
ripples  (Plate  X.,  d,  e). 

All  these  observations  seem  to  me  to 
bear  out  the  theory  of  the  inventor,  and 
perhaps  to  some  extent  to  explain  it.  I 
am  much  tempted  to  carry  them  further, 
and  ask  the  questions,  why  a pen-knife 
as  well  as  a wheel  will  not  make  a cut  in 
glass,  but  will  make  a perfectly  definite 

" 5 2 


scratch  on  it  if  the  glass  is  placed  under 
water  ? and  why  this  line  so  made  will  yet 
not  serve  for  separating  the  glass  ? and 
why  a piece  of  glass  can  be  cut  in  two 
(roughly,  to  be  sure,  but  still  cut  in  two) 
with  a pair  of  scissors  under  water,  a thing 
otherwise  quite  impossible  ? 

But  I do  not  think  that  the  knowledge 
of  these  questions  will  help  the  reader  to 
do  better  stained-glass  windows,  and  there- 
fore I will  not  pursue  them. 

(2)  The  question  of  sharpening  the  tool 
is  soon  disposed  of. 

If  the  tool  is  to  be  sharpened,  the  jaws 
must  be  ground  down,  whether  the  maker 
grinds  them  down  originally  or  whether 
we  do  it.  Is  sharpening  worth  while,  since 
the  tool  only  costs  a few  pence  ? 

Well,  it’s  a question  each  must  decide 
for  himself ; but  I will  just  answer  two 
small  difficulties  which  affect  the  matter. 

If  grinding  the  jaws  loosens  the  pivot,  it 
can  be  hammered  tight  again  with  a punch. 
If  sharpening  wears  out  the  oil-stone  (as  it 
undoubtedly  does,  and  oil-stones  are  ex- 
pensive things),  a piece  of  fine  polished 
Westmoreland  slate  will  do  as  well,  and 
there  is  no  need  to  be  chary  of  it.  Even 
a piece  of  ground-glass  with  oil  will  do. 

53 


Cutting 

(elementary) 


Cutting  (3)  But  now  as  to  the  handle.  I am 
(elementary)  £rst  to  eXplain  the  amusing  “mystery” 

why  the  old  pattern  shown 
in  fig.  1 still  sells. 

It  is  because  the  British 
working-man  is  convinced 
that  the  wheels  in  this 
handle  are  better  quality 
than  any  others . 

Is  he  right,  or  is  it  only 
an  instance  of  his  love  for 
and  faith  in  the  thing  he 
has  got  used  to  ? 

Or  can  it  be  that  all 
workmen  do  not  know  of 
the  existence  of  the  other 
types  of  handle  ? In  case 
this  is  so,  I figure  some 
(%•  I7)«  Or  is  it  that  the 
wheel  for  some  reason  runs 
less  truly  in  the  malle- 
able iron  than  in  the  cast 
iron  ? 

Certain  it  is  that  the 
whole  trade  here  prefers 
these  wheels,  and  I am  bound  to  say 
that  as  far  as  my  experience  goes  they 
seem  to  me  to  work  better  than  those  in 
other  handles. 

54 


Fig.  17. 


But  as  to  all  the  handles  themselves,  I 
must  now  voice  our  general  complaint. 

(1)  They  are  too  light. 

For  tapping  our  heavy  antique  and  slab- 
glasses  we  wish  we  had  a heavier  tool. 

(2)  They  are  too  thin  in  the  handle  for 
comfort,  at  least  it  seems  so  to  me. 

(3)  The  three  gashes  cut  out  of  the 
head  of  the  tool  decrease  the  weight,  and 
if  these  were  omitted  the  tool  would  gain. 
Their  only  use  that  I can  conceive  of  is 
that  of  a very  poor  substitute  for  pliers  as 
a “groseing”  tool,  if  one  has  forgotten 
one’s  pliers.  But  (as  Serjeant  Buzfuz  might 
say)  “ who  does  forget  his  pliers  ? ” 

The  whole  question  of  the  handle  is 
complicated  by  the  fact  that  some  cutters 
rest  the  tool  on  the  forefinger  and  some  on 
the  middle  finger  in  tapping,  and  that  a 
handle  the  sections  of  which  are  calculated 
for  the  one  will  not  do  equally  well  for  the 
other. 

But  the  whole  thing  resolves  itself  into 
this,  that  if  we  could  get  a tool,  the  handle 
of  which  corresponded  in  all  its  curves,  di- 
mensions, and  sections  with  the  old-estab- 
lished diamond,  I think  we  should  all  be 
glad ; and  if  the  head,  wheel,  and  pivot 
were  all  made  of  the  quality  and  material 

55 


Cutting 

(elementary) 


Cutting  of  which  fig.  i is  now  made,  but  with  the 
(elementary)  handle  as  I describe,  many  of  us,  I think, 
would  be  still  more  glad  ; and  if  these 
remarks  lead  in  any  degree  to  such  results, 
they  at  least  of  all  the  book  will  have  been 
worth  the  writing,  and  will  probably  be  its 
best  claim  to  a white  stone  in  Israel,  as  re- 
moving one  more  solecism  from  “ this  so- 
. called  twentieth  century.” 

I shall  now  leave  this  subject  of  cutting 
for  the  present,  and  describe,  up  to  about 
the  same  point,  the  processes  of  painting, 
taking  both  on  to  a higher  stage  later — 
as  if,  in  fact,  I were  teaching  a pupil ; for 
as  soon  as  you  can  cut  glass  well  enough  to 
cut  a piece  to  paint  on,  you  should  learn 
to  paint  on  it,  and  carry  the  two  things  on 
step  by  step,  side  by  side. 


CHAPTER  III 

Painting  (elementary) — Pigments — Mixing — How  to 
F ill  the  Brush — O utline — Examples — Industry — 
The  Needle  and  Stick — Completing  the  Outline. 

Painting  The  pigments  for  painting  on  glass  are 
(elementary)  powders,  being  the  oxides  of  various 
minerals,  chiefly  iron.  There  are  others  ; 

56 


but  take  it  thus — that  the  iron  oxide  Painting 
is  a red  pigment,  and  the  others  are  in-  (elementary) 
troduced,  mainly,  to  modify  this.  The 
red  pigment  is  the  best  to  use,  and  goes 
off  less  in  the  firing ; but,  alas ! it  is  a 
detestably  ugly  colour , like  red  lead  ; and, 
do  what  you  will,  you  cannot  use  it  on 
white  glass.  Against  clear  sky  it  looks 
pretty  well  in  some  lights,  but  get  it  in 
a side-light,  or  at  an  angle,  and  the  whole 
window  looks  like  red  brick ; while,  seen 
against  any  background  except  clear  sky, 
it  always  looks  so  from  all  points  of  view. 

There  are  various  makers  of  these  pig- 
ments. Some  glass-painters  make  their 
own,  and  a beginner  with  any  knowledge 
of  chemistry  would  be  wise  to  work  in 
that  direction. 

I need  not  discuss  the  various  kinds  of 
pigment ; what  follows  is  a description  of 
my  own  practice  in  the  matter. 

To  Mix  the  Pigment  for  Painting. — Take 
a teaspoonful  of  red  tracing-colour,  and 
a rather  smaller  spoonful  of  intense  black, 
put  them  on  a slab  of  thick  ground-glass 
about  9 inches  square,  and  drop  clean 
water  upon  them  till  you  can  work  them 
up  into  a paste  with  the  palette-knife 
(fig.  1 8)  ; work  them  up  for  a minute  or 

57 


Painting  so,  till  the  paste  is  smooth  and  the  lumps 
(elementary)  broken  up,  and  then  add  about  three 
drops  of  strong  gum  made  from  the  purest 
white  gum-arabic  dissolved  in  cold 
water.  Any  good  chemist  will 
sell  this,  but  its  purity  is  a matter 
of  great  importance,  for  you  want 
the  maximum  of  adhesiveness  with 
the  minimum  of  the  material. 

Mix  the  colour  well  up  with  the 
knife  ; then  take  one  of  those  long- 
haired sable  brushes,  which  are 
called  “riggers”  (fig.  19),  and 
which  all  artists’- colourmen  sell, 
and  fill  it  with  the  colour,  diluting 
it  with  enough  water  to  make  it 
quite  thin.  Do  not  dilute  all  the 
pigment ; keep  most  of  it  in  a 
tidy  lump,  merely  moist,  as  you 
ground  it  and  not  further  wetted, 
at  the  corner  of  your  slab ; but 
always  keep  a portion  diluted  in  a 
small  “ pond  ” in  the  middle  of 
your  palette. 

How  to  Fill  the  Brush  with  Pig- 
ment.— Now  you  must  note  that  this 
is  a heavy  powder  floating  free  in  water, 
therefore  it  quickly  sinks  to  the  bottom  of 
your  little  “pond.”  Each  time  you  fill  your 
58 


Fig.  18. 


brush  you  must  “ stir  up  the  mud"  for  the  Painting 
“mud”  is  what  you  want  to  get  in  your  (elementary) 
brush,  and  not  only  so,  but  you  want  to 
get  your  brush  evenly  full  of  it  from  tip 
to  base,  therefore  you  must  splay  out  the 
hairs  flat  against  the  glass,  till  all  are 
wet,  and  then  in 
taking  it  off  the 
palette,  “twiddle” 
it  to  a point  quickly. 

This  takes  long  to 
describe,  but  it  does 
not  take  a couple 
of  seconds  to  do. 

You  must  have  the 
patience  to  spend  so 
much  pains  on  it, 
and  even  to  fill  the 
brush  very  often, 
nearly  for  each 
touch;  then  you  will 

get  a clear,  smooth,  manageable  stroke 
for  your  outline,  and  save  time  in  the 
end. 

How  to  Faint  in  Outline . — Make  some 
strokes  (fig.  20)  on  a piece  of  glass  and 
let  them  dry ; some  people  like  them  to 
stick  very  tight  to  the  glass,  some  so  that 
a touch  of  the  finger  removes  them  ; you 

59 


Fig.  19. 


Painting  must  find  which  suits  you  by -and -by, 
(elementary)  and  vary  the  amount  of  gum  accordingly  ; 

but  to  begin,  I would  advise  that  they 
should  be  just  removable  by  a moderately 
hard  rub  with  the  finger,  rather  less  hard 
a rub  than  you  close  a gummed  envelope 
with. 

Practise  now  for  a time  the  making  of 

strokes,  large 
and  small, 
dark  and  light, 
broad  and  fine ; 
and  when  you 
have  got  com- 
mand of  your 
tools,  set  your- 
self the  task 
of  doing  the 
same  thing, 
copying  an  ex- 
ample placed  underneath  your  hit  of  glass. 
You  will  find  a hand-rest  (fig.  21)  an 
assistance  in  this. 

It  is  difficult  to  give  any  list  of  examples 
suitable  for  this  stage  of  glass,  but  the  kind 
of  line  employed  on  the  best  heraldry  is 
always  good  for  the  purpose.  The  splendid 
illustrations  of  this  in  Mr.  St.  John-Hope’s 
book  of  the  stall-plates  of  the  Knights  of 
60 


the  Garter  at  Windsor,  examples  of  which  Painting 
by  the  author’s  courtesy  I am  allowed  to  (elementary) 
reproduce  (figs.  22-22a),  are  ideal  for 
bold  outline-work,  and  fascinatingly  inte- 
resting for  their  own  sake.  In  most  of 
these  there  is  not  only  excellent  practice 
in  outline , and  a great  deal  of  it,  but,  mixed 
with  it,  practice  also  in  flat  washes,  which 


Fig.  21. 


it  is  a good  thing  to  be  learning  side  by 
side  with  the  other. 

And  here  let  me  note  that  there  are 
throughout  the  practice  of  glass-painting 
many  methods  in  use  at  every  stage.  Each 
person,  each  firm  of  glass-stainers,  has  his 
own  methods  and  traditions.  I shall  not 
trouble  to  notice  all  these  as  we  come  to 
them,  but  describe  what  seems  to  me  to  be 
the  best  practice  in  each  case  ; but  I shall 
here  and  there  give  a word  about  others. 

For  instance  : if  you  use  sugar  or  treacle 
instead  of  gum,  you  get  a rather  smoother- 

61 


surface ; and  perhaps  if  your  aim  is  outline 
only , it  may  be  well  to  try  it ; but  if  you 
wish  to  pass  shading-colour  over  it  you 
must  use  gum,  for  you  cannot  do  so  over 

62 


Painting  working  pigment,  and  after  it  is  dry  you 
(elementary)  can  moisten  it  as  often  as  you  will  for 
further  work  by  merely  breathing  on  the 


Fig.  22. 


Painting 


Fig,  2z\, 


63 


Painting  treacle  colour;  nor  do  I think  treacle  serves 
(elementary)  so  wep  for  the  next  pr0cess  I am  to  describe, 
which  here  follows. 

How  to  complete  the  Outline  better  than 
you  possibly  can  by  One  Tracing. — When  you 
take  up  a bit  of  glass  from  the  table,  after 
having  done  all  you  can  to  make  a correct 
tracing,  you  will  be  disappointed  with  the 
result.  It  will  have  looked  pretty  well  on 
the  table  with  the  copy  showing  behind  it 
and  hiding  its  defects,  but  it  is  a different 
thing  when  held  up  to  the  searching  day- 
light. This  must  not,  however,  discourage 
you.  No  one,  not  the  most  skilful,  could 
expect  to  make  a perfect  copy  of  an  original 
(if  that  original  had  any  fineness  of  line  or 
sensitiveness  of  touch  about  it)  by  merely 
tracing  it  downwards  on  the  bench.  You 
must  put  it  upright  against  the  daylight, 
and  mend  your  drawing,  freehand,  faith- 
fully by  the  copy. 

These  remarks  do  not,  in  a great  degree, 
apply  to  the  case  of  hard  outlines  specially 
prepared  for  literal  translation.  I am  speak- 
ing of  those  where  the  outline  is,  in  the 
artistic  sense,  sensitive  and  refined,  as  in  a 
Botticelli  painting  or  a Holbein  drawing, 
and  to  copy  these  well  you  want  an  easel. 

For  this  small  work  any  kind  of  frame 

64 


with  a sheet  of  glass  in  it,  and  a ledge  to 
rest  your  bit  of  glass  on  and  a leg  to  stand 
out  behind,  will  do,  and  by  all  means  get 
it  made  (fig.  23)  ; but  do  not  spend  too 
much  on  it,  for  later  on  you  will  want  a 
bigger  and  more  complicated  thing,  which 
will  be  described  in  its  proper  place — that 
is  to  say,  when  we  come  to  it ; and  we  shall 


A 

Fig.  23. 

come  to  it  when  we  come  to  deal  with  work 
made  up  of  a number  of  pieces  of  glass,  as 
ail  windows  must  be. 

This  that  you  have  now,  not  being  a 
window  but  a bit  of  glass  to  practise 
on,  what  I have  described  above  will  do 
for  it. 

A note  to  he  always  industrious  and  to  work 
with  all  your  might. — I advise  you  to  put 

E 65 


Painting 

(elementary) 


Painting  this  work  on  an  easel ; but  this  is  not  the 
(elementary ) way  such  work  is  usually  done; — where 
the  work  is  done  as  a task  (alas,  that  it 
could  ever  be  so  !)  it  is  held  listlessly  in 
the  left  hand  while  touched  with  the 
right ; but  no  artist  can  afford  to  be  at 
this  disadvantage,  or  at  any  disadvantage. 

Fancy  a surgeon  having  to  hold  the 
limb  with  one  hand  while  he  uses  the 
lancet  with  the  other,  or  an  astronomer, 
while  he  makes  his  measurement,  bung- 
lingly  moving  his  telescope  by  hand  while 
he  pursues  his  star,  instead  of  having  it 
driven  by  the  clock  ! 

You  cannot  afford  to  be  less  keen  or 
less  in  earnest,  and  you  want  both  hands 
free — ay  ! more  than  this — your  whole 
body  free : you  must  not  be  lazy  and  sit 
glued  to  your  stool ; you  must  get  up  and 
walk  backwards  and  forwards  to  look  at 
your  work.  Do  you  think  art  is  so  easy 
that  you  can  afford  to  saunter  over  it  ? 

Do,  I beg  you,  dear  reader,  pay  at- 
tention to  these  words;  for  it  is  true 
(though  strange)  that  the  hardest  thing  I 
have  found  in  teaching  has  been  to  get 
the  pupil  to  take  the  most  reasonable  care 
not  to  hamper  and  handicap  himself  by 
omitting  to  have  his  work  comfortably 


and  conveniently  placed  and  his  tools  and  Painting 

materials  in  good  order.  You  shall  find  a (elementary) 

man  going  on  painting  all  day,  working 

in  a messing,  muddling  way — wasting  time 

and  money— because  his  pigment  has  not 

been  covered  up  when  he  left  off  work 

yesterday,  and  has  got  dusty  and  full  of 

“ hairs  ” ; another  will  waste  hour  after 

hour,  cricking  his  neck  and  squinting  at 

his  work  from  a corner,  when  thirty 

seconds  and  a little  wit  would  move  his 

work  where  he  would  get  a good  light 

and  be  comfortable  ; or  he  will  work  with 

bad  tools  and  grumble,  when  five  minutes 

would  mend  his  tools  and  make  him 

happy. 

An  artist’s  work — any  artist’s,  but  es- 
pecially a glass-painter’s — should  be  just 
as  finished,  precise,  clean,  and  alert  as  a 
surgeon’s  or  a dentist’s.  Have  you  not 
in  the  case  of  these  (when  the  affair  has 
not  been  too  serious)  admired  the  way  in 
which  the  cool,  white  hands  move  about, 
the  precision  with  which  the  finger-tips 
take  up  this  or  that,  and  when  taken  up 
use  it  “just  so”  neither  more  nor  less: 
the  spotlessness  and  order  and  perfect 
finish  of  every  tool  and  material,  from 
those  fearsome  things  which  (though  you 

67 


Painting 

(elementary) 


A 


prefer  not  to  dwell  on  their  uses)  you  can- 
not help  admiring,  down  to  the  snowy 
cotton-wool  daintily  poked  ready  through 
the  holes  in  a little  silver  beehive  ? Just 
such  skill,  handling,  and  precision,  and 
just  such  perfection  of  instruments,  I 
urge  as  proper  to  painting. 

What  Tools  are  wanted  to  complete  the 
Outline. — I will  now  describe  those  tools 
which  you  want  at  this 
stage,  that  is,  to  mend 
your  outline  with. 

You  want  the  brush 
which  you  used  in  the 
first  instance  to  paint 
it  with,  and  that  has 
already  been  described  ; 
but  you  also  want 
points  of  various  fine- 
ness to  etch  it  away 
with  where  it  is  too 
thick ; these  are  the  needle  and  the  stick 
(fig.  24)  ; any  needle  set  in  a handle  will 
do,  but  if  you  want  it  for  fine  work,  take 
care  that  it  be  sharp.  “ How  foolish,” 
you  say ; “ as  if  you  need  tell  us  that.” 
On  the  contrary, — nine  people  out  of 
ten  need  telling,  because  they  go  upon 
the  assumption  that  a needle  must  be 
68 


Fig.  24. 


sharp,  “as  sharp  as  a needle,”  and  can-  Painting 

not  need  sharpening, — and  they  will  go  (elementary) 

on  for  365  days  in  a year  wondering 

why  a needle  (which  must  be  sharp)  should 

take  out  so  much  coarser  a light  than  they 

want. 

Now  as  to  “ sticks  ” ; if  you  make  a 
point  of  soft  wood  it  lasts  for  three  or 
four  touches  and  then  gets  “ furred  ” at 
the  point,  and  if  of  very  hard  wood  it 
slips  on  the  glass.  Bamboo  is  good  ; but 
the  best  of  all — that  is  to  say  for  broad 
stick-lights — is  an  old,  sable  oil-colour 
brush,  clogged  with  oil  and  varnish  till 
it  is  as  hard  as  horn  and  then  cut  to  a 
point ; this  “ clings  ” a little  as  it  goes 
over  the  glass,  and  is  most  comfortable 
to  use. 

I have  no  doubt  that  other  materials 
may  be  equally  good,  celluloid  or  horn, 
for  example ; the  student  must  use  his 
own  ingenuity  on  such  a simple  matter. 

How  to  Complete  the  Outline. — With  the 
tools  above  described  complete  the  out- 
line— by  adding  colour  with  the  brush 
where  the  lines  are  too  fine,  and  by  taking 
it  away  with  needle  or  stick  where  they 
are  too  coarse ; make  it  by  these  means 
exactly  like  the  copy,  and  this  is  all  you 

69 


70 


7i 


Painting  need  do.  But  as  an  example  of  the  degree 
(elementary)  Gf  correctness  attainable  (and  therefore  to 
be  demanded)  are  here  inserted  two  illus- 
trations (figs.  25  and  2 6),  one  of  the 
example  used,  and  the  other  of  a copy 
made  from  it  by  a young  apprentice. 


CHAPTER  IV 

Matting — Badgering — How  to  preserve  Correctness  of 
Outline — Difficulty  of  Large  Work — Ill-ground 
Pigment — The  Muller — Overground  Pigment — 
Taking  out  Lights — “ Scrubs” — The  Need  of 
a Master. 

Matting  Take  your  camel  hair  matting-brush  (fig. 

27  or  28);  fill  it  with  the  pigment,  try 
it  on  the  slab  of  the  easel  till  it  seems 
just  so  full  that  the  wash  you  put  on  will 
not  run  down  till  you  have  plenty  of  time 
to  brush  it  flat  with  the  badger  (fig.  29). 

Have  your  badger  ready  at  hand  and 
very  clean , for  if  there  is  any  pigment  on 
it  from  former  using,  that  will  spoil  the 
very  delicate  operation  you  are  now  to 
perform. 

Now  rapidly,  but  with  a very  light 
hand,  lay  an  even  wash  over  the  whole 
72 


piece  of  glass  on  which  the  outline  is 
painted ; use  vertical  strokes,  and  try  to 
get  the  touches  to  just  meet  each  other 
without  overlapping  ; but  there  is  a very 
important  thing  to  observe  in  holding  the 
brush.  If  you  hold  it  so  (fig.  30)  you 


Fig.  27.  Fig.  28. 


cannot  properly  regulate  the  pressure,  and 
also  the  pigment  runs  away  downwards, 
and  the  brush  gets  dry  at  the  point ; you 
must  hold  it  so  (fig.  31),  then  the  curve 
of  the  hair  makes  the  brush  go  lightly 
over  the  surface,  while  also,  the  body  of 

73 


Matting 


Matting 


the  brush  being  pointed  downwards,  the 
point  you  are  using  is  always  being  re- 
filled. 

It  takes  a very  skilful  workman  indeed 


Fig.  29. 


to  put  the  strokes  so  evenly  side  by  side 
that  the  result  looks  flat  and  not  stripy ; 
indeed  you  can  hardly  hope  to  do  so,  but 
you  can  get  rid  of  what  “stripes”  there 
are  by  taking  your  badger  and  “ stabbing  ” 
74 


the  surface  of  the  painting  with  it  very 
rapidly,  moving  it  from  side  to  side  so  as 
never  to  stab  twice  in  the  same  spot ; this 
by  degrees  makes  the  colour  even,  by 
taking  a little  off  the  dark  part  and 
putting  it  on  the  light ; but  the  result 
will  look  mottled,  not  flat  and  smooth. 
Sometimes  this  may  be  agreeable,  it  de- 
pends on  what  you  are  painting  ; but  if 
you  wish  it  to  be 
smooth,  just  give 
a last  stroke  or 
two  over  the 
whole  glass  side- 
ways, that  is  to 
say,  holding  the 
badger  so  that  it 
stands  quite  per- 
pendicular to  the 
glass,  move  it, 
always  still  perpen- 
dicular, across  the  whole  surface.  You 
must  not  sway  it  from  side  to  side,  or 
kick  it  up  at  the  end  of  each  stroke  like  a 
man  white-washing ; it  jjmust  move  along 
so  that  the  points  of  the  hairs  are  all  just 
lightly  touching  the  glass  all  the  time. 

How  to  Ensure  the  Drawing  of  a Face 
being  kept  Correct  while  Painting. — If  you 

75 


Matting 


Matting  adopt  the  plan  of  doing  the  first  painting 


over  an  unfired  outline,  you  must  be  very 
careful  that  the  outline  is  not  brushed  out 
of  drawing  in  the  process.  If  you  have 
sufficient  skill  it  need  not  be  so,  for  it  is 
quite  possible — if  all  the  conditions  as  to 
adhesiveness  are  right — and  if  you  are 
light-handed  enough — to  so  lay  and  badger 
the  “matt”  that  the  outline  beneath  shall 
only  be  gently  softened,  and  not  blurred 


also  with  equal  care  on  to  a piece  of  tracing 
paper, andarrange  three  or  four  well-marked 
points,  such  as  the  corner  of  the  mouth,  the 
pupil  of  the  eye,  and  some  point  on  the  back 
of  the  head  or  neck,  so  that  these  cannot 
possibly  shift,  and  that  you  may  be  able  at 
any  time  to  get  the  tracing  back  into  its 
proper  place,  both  on  the  cartoon  and  on 
the  piece  of  glass  on  which  you  are  to 


Fig.  31. 


or  moved  from 
its  place.  But 
in  any  case  the 
best  plan  is  at 
the  same  time 
that  you  trace 
the  outline  of  a 
head  on  to  the 
glass  to  trace  it 


also  your  first  care  should  be  that  these 
three  or  four  points  should  be  clearly 
marked  and  unmovable ; then  during  the 
whole  progress  of  the  painting  you  will 
always  be  able  to  verify  the  correctness  of 
the  drawing  by  placing  your  piece  of 
tracing  paper  over  the  glass,  and  so  seeing 
that  nothing  has  shifted  its  place. 

It  requires  a good  deal  of  patience  and 
practice  to  lay  matt  successfully  over  un- 
fired outline.  It  is  a question  of  the 
amount  and  quality  of  the  gum,  the  con- 
dition of  your  brush,  even  the  dryness 
or  dampness  of  the  air.  You  must  try 
what  degree  of  gum  suits  you  best,  both 
in  the  outline  and  in  the  matt  which  you 
are  to  pass  over  it.  Try  it  a good  many 
times  on  a slab  of  plain  glass  or  on  the 
plate  of  your  easel  first,  before  you  try 
on  your  painting.  Of  course  it’s  a much 
easier  thing  to  matt  successfully  over  a 
small  piece  than  over  a large.  A head 
as  big  as  the  palm  of  your  hand  is  not 
a very  severe  test  of  your  powers;  but 
in  one  as  large  as  the  whole  of  your  hand, 
say  a head  seven  inches  from  crown  to 
chin,  the  problem  is  increased  quite  im- 
measurably in  difficulty.  The  real  test 
is  being  able  to  produce  in  glass  a real 

77 


Matting 


Matting  facsimile  of  a head  by  Botticelli  or 
Holbein,  and  when  you  can  do  that 
satisfactorily  you  can  do  anything  in 
glass-painting. 

Do  not  aim  to  get  too  much  in  the  first 
painting,  at  any  rate  not  till  you  have 
had  long  practice.  Be  content  if  you  get 
enough  modelling  on  a head  to  turn  the 
outline  into  a more  sensitive  and  artistic 
drawing  than  it  could  be  if  planted  down, 
raw  and  hard,  upon  the  bare,  cold  glass. 
After  all  it  is  a common  practice  to  fire 
the  outline  separately,  and  anything  be- 
yond this  that  you  get  upon  the  glass 
for  first  fire  is  so  much  to  the  good. 

But  besides  the  quality  of  the  gum 
you  will  find  sometimes  differences  in  the 
quality  or  condition  of  the  pigment.  It 
may  be  insufficiently  ground ; in  which 
case  the  matt,  in  passing  over,  will  rasp 
away  every  vestige  of  the  outline,  so 
delicate  a matter  it  is. 

You  can  tell  when  colour  is  not  ground 
sufficiently  by  the  way  it  acts  when  laid 
as  a vertical  wash.  Lay  a wash,  moist 
enough  to  “ run,”  on  a bit  of  your 
easel-slab ; it  will  run  down,  making  a 
sort  of  seaweed  - looking  pattern — clear 
lanes  of  light  on  the  glass  with  a black 
78 


grain  at  the  lower  end.  Those  are  the 
bits  of  unground  material : under  a 

ioo-diameter  microscope  they  look  like 
chunks  of  ironstone  or  road  metal,  or  of 
rusty  iron,  and  you’ll  soon  understand 
why  they  have  scratched  away  your 
tender  outline. 

You  must  grind  such  colour  till  it  is 
smooth,  and  an  old-fashioned  granite 
muller  is  the  thing,  not  a glass  one. 

Now,  after  ail  this,  how  am  I to  excuse 
the  paradox  tnat  it  is  possible  to  have  the 
colour  ground  too  fine ! All  one  can  say 
is  that  you  “ find  it  so.”  It  can  be  so  fine 
that  it  seems  to  slip  about  in  a thin,  oily 
kind  of  way. 

It’s  all  as  you  find  it ; the  differences 
of  a craft  are  endless ; there  is  no  fore- 
casting of  everything,  and  you  must  buy 
your  experience,  like  everybody  else,  and 
find  what  suits  you,  learning  your  skill 
and  your  materials  side  by  side. 

Now  these  are  the  chief  processes  of 
painting,  as  far  as  laying  on  colour  goes ; 
but  you  still  have  much  of  your  work 
before  you,  for  the  way  in  which  light 
and  shade  is  got  on  glass  is  almost  more 
in  “ taking  off”  than  in  “ putting  on.” 
You  have  laid  your  dark  “matt”  all  over 

79 


Matting 


Matting  the  glass  evenly  ; now  the  next  thing  is 
to  remove  it  wherever  you  want  light  or 
half-tone. 

How  to  Finish  a Shaded  Fainting  out  of 
the  Even  Matt. — -This  is  done  in  many 


Fig.  32. 


ways,  but  chiefly  with  those  tools  which 
painters  call  “scrubs,”  which  are  oil-colour 
hog-hair  brushes,  either  worn  down  by 
use,  or  rubbed  down  on  fine  sand-paper 
till  they  are  as  stiff  as  you  like  them  to 
be.  You  want  them  different  in  this : 
80 


some  harder,  some  softer ; some  round, 
some  square,  and  of  various  sizes  (figs. 
32  and  33),  and  with  these  you  brush  the 
matt  away  gently  and  by  degrees,  and 
so  make  a light  and  shade  drawing 
of  it.  It  is  exactly  like  the  process  of 
mezzotint,  where,  after  a surface  like 
that  of  a file 
has  been  labori- 
ously produced 
over  the  whole 
copper-  plate, 
the  engraver 
removes  it  in 
various  degrees, 
leaving  the  ori- 
ginal to  stand 
entirely  only 
for  the  darkest 
of  all  shadows, 
and  removing  it  all  entirely  only  in  the 
highest  lights. 

There  is  nothing  for  this  but  practice  ; 
there  is  nothing  more  to  tell  about  it;  as  the 
conjurers  say,  “That’s  how  it’s  done.”  You 
will  find  difficulties,  and  as  these  occur  you 
willthinkthisa  most  defective  book.  “Why 
on  earth,”  you  will  say,  “ didn’t  he  tell  us 
about  this,  about  that,  about  the  other  ? ” 


F 


81 


Matting 


Matting 


Ah,  yes ! it  is  a most  defective  book ; 
if  it  were  not,  I would  have  taken  good 
care  not  to  write  it.  For  the  worst  thing 
that  could  happen  to  you  would  be  to 
suppose  that  any  book  can  possibly  teach 
you  any  craft,  and  take  the  place  of  a 
master  on  the  one  hand,  and  of  years  of 
practice  on  the  other. 

This  book  is  not  intended  to  do  so ; 
it  is  written  to  give  as  much  information 
and  to  arouse  as  much  interest  as  a book 
can ; with  the  hope  that  if  any  are  in  a 
position  to  wTish  to  learn  this  craft,  and 
have  not  been  brought  up  to  it,  they  may 
learn,  in  general,  what  its  conditions  are, 
and  then  be  able  to  decide  whether  to 
carry  it  further  by  seeking  good  teaching, 
and  by  laying  themselves  out  for  a patient 
course  of  study  and  practice  and  many 
failures  and  experiments.  While,  with  re- 
gard to  those  already  engaged  in  glass- 
painting, it  is  of  course  intended  to  arouse 
their  interest  in,  and  to  give  them  infor- 
mation upon,  those  other  branches  of 
their  craft  which  are  not  generally  taught 
to  those  brought  up  as  glass-painters. 


82 


CHAPTER  V 


Cutting  (advanced) — The  Ideal  Cartoon — The  Cut- 
line— Setting  the  Cartoon  — Transferring  the 
Cut-line  to  the  Glass — Another  Way — Some 
Principles  of  Taste — Countercharging. 

We  have  only  as  yet  spoken  of  the  pro-  Cutting 
cesses  of  cutting  and  painting  in  themselves,  (advanced) 
and  as  they  can  be  practised  on  a single  bit 
of  glass ; but  now  we  must  consider  them 
as  applied  to  a subject  in  glass  where  many 
pieces  must  be  used.  This  is  a differ- 
ent matter  indeed,  and  brings  in  all  the 
questions  of  taste  and  judgment  which 
make  the  difference  between  a good 
window  and  an  inferior  one.  Now,  first, 
you  must  know  that  every  differently 
coloured  piece  must  be  cut  out  by  itself, 
and  therefore  must  have  a strip  of  lead 
round  it  to  join  it  to  the  others. 

Draw  a cartoon  of  a figure,  bearing  this 
well  in  mind:  you  must  draw  it  in  such  a 
simple  and  severe  way  that  you  do  not  set 
impossible  or  needlessly  difficult  tasks  to 
the  cutter.  Look  now,  for  example,  at 
the  picture  in  Plate  V.  by  Mr.  Selwyn 
Image — how  simple  the  cutting  ! 


83 


Cutting  You  think  it,  perhaps,  too  “ severe  ” ? 
(advanced)  You  d0  not  like  to  see  the  leads  so  plainly. 

You  would  like  better  something  more 
after  the  “ Munich  ” school,  where  the 
lead-line  is  disguised  or  circumvented.  If 
so,  my  lesson  has  gone  wrong ; but  we  must 
try  and  get  it  right. 

You  would  like  it  better  because  it  is 
“ more  of  a picture  ” ; exactly,  but  you 
ought  to  like  the  other  better  because  it  is 
“ more  of  a window.”  Yes,  even  if  all 
else  were  equal,  you  ought  to  like  it 
better,  because  the  lead-lines  cut  it  up. 
Keep  your  pictures  for  the  walls  and  your 
windows  for  the  holes  in  them. 

But  all  else  is  not  equal : and,  supposing 
you  now  standing  before  a window  of  the 
kind  I speak  of,  I will  tell  you  what  has 
been  sacrificed  to  get  this  “ picture- 
window  ” “ like  a picture.”  Stained-glass 
has  been  sacrificed  ; for  this  is  not  stained- 
glass,  it  is  painted  glass — that  is  to  say, 
it  is  coloured  glass  ground  up  into  powders 
and  painted  on  to  white  sheets  of  glass  : a 
poor,  miserable  substitute  for  the  glorious 
colour  of  the  deep  amethyst  and  ruby- 
coloured  glasses  which  it  pretends  to  ape. 
You  will  not  be  in  much  danger  of  using 
it  when  you  have  handled  your  stained- 

84 


glass  samples  for  a while  and  learned  to 
love  them.  You  will  love  them  so  much 
that  you  will  even  get  to  like  the  severe 
lead-line  which  announces  them  for  what 
they  are. 

But  you  must  get  to  reasonably  love  it 
as  a craft  limitation,  a necessity,  a thing 
which  places  bounds  and  limits  to  what 
you  can  do  in  this  art,  and  prevents  tempt- 
ing and  specious  tricks. 

How  to  Make  a “ Cut-line .” — But  now, 
all  this  being  granted,  how  are  we  to  set 
about  getting  the  pieces  cut  ? First  of 
all,  I would  say  that  it  is  always  well  to 
draw  most,  if  not  all,  of  the  necessary 
lead-lines  on  the  cartoon  itself.  By  the 
necessary  lead-lines  I mean  those  which 
separate  different  colours ; for  you  know 
that  there  must  be  a lead-line  between 
these.  Then,  when  these  are  drawn,  it 
is  a question  of  convenience  whether  to 
draw  in  also  the  more  or  less  optional 
lead-lines  which  break  up  each  space  of 
uniform  colour  into  convenient  - sized 
pieces.  If  you  do  not  want  your  cartoon 
afterwards  for  any  other  purpose  you  may 
as  well  do  so:  that  is,  first  “set”  the 
cartoon  if  it  is  in  charcoal  or  chalk,  and 
then  try  the  places  for  these  lead-lines 

85 


Cutting 

(advanced) 


Cutting  lightly  in  charcoal  over  the  drawing : 
(advanced)  WOrking  thus,  you  can  dust  them  away 
time  after  time  till  they  seem  right  to 
you,  and  then  either  set  them  also  or 
not  as  you  choose. 

A good,  useful  setting-mixture  for  large 
quantities  is  composed  by  mixing  equal 
parts  of  “white  polish”  and  methylated 
spirit ; allowing  it  to  settle  for  a week, 
and  pouring  off  all  that  is  clear.  It  is  used 
in  the  ordinary  way  with  a spray  diffuser, 
and  will  keep  for  any  length  of  time. 

The  next  step  is  to  make  what  is  called 
the  cut-line.  To  do  this,  pin  a piece  of 
tracing-cloth  over  the  whole  cartoon ; 
this  can  be  got  from  any  artist’s-colourman 
or  large  stationer.  Pin  it  over  the  cartoon 
with  the  dull  surface  outwards,  and  with 
a soft  piece  of  charcoal  draw  lines  ^ to  | 
of  an  inch  wide  down  the  centre  of  all 
the  lead-lines  : remove  the  cloth  from  the 
cartoon,  and  if  any  of  the  lines  look 
awkward  or  ugly,  now  that  you  see  them 
by  themselves  undisguised  by  the  drawing 
below,  alter  them,  and  then,  finally,  with 
a long,  thin  brush  paint  them  in,  over 
the  charcoal,  with  water-colour  lamp- 
black, this  time  a true  sixteenth  of  an 
inch  wide.  Don’t  dust  the  charcoal  off 

86 


first,  it  makes  the  paint  cling  much  better  Cutting 
to  the  shiny  cloth.  (advanced) 

When  this  is  done,  there  is  a choice 
of  three  ways  for  cutting  the  glass.  One 
is  to  make  shaped  pieces  of  cartridge-paper 
as  patterns  to  cut  each  bit  of  glass  by ; 
another  is  to  place  the  bits  of  glass,  one 
by  one,  over  the  cut-line  and  cut  free- 
hand by  the  line  you  see  through  the 
glass.  This  latter  process  needs  no  de- 
scription, but  you  cannot  employ  it  for 
dark  glasses  because  you  cannot  see  the 
line  through  : for  this  you  must  employ 
one  of  the  other  methods. 

How  to  Transfer  the  Cutting-line  on  to  the 
Glass.— Take  a bit  of  glass  large  enough 
to  cut  the  piece  you  want ; place  it,  face 
upwards,  on  the  table ; place  the  cut-line 
over  it  in  its  proper  place,  and  then  slip 
between  them,  without  moving  either,  a 
piece  of  black  “transfer  paper”:  then,  with 
a style  or  hard  pencil,  trace  the  cutting- 
line down  on  to  the  glass.  This  will  not 
make  a black  mark  visible  on  the  glass, 
it  will  only  make  a grease  mark,  and  that 
hardly  visible,  not  enough  to  cut  by ; 
but  take  a soft  dabber — a lump  of  cotton- 
wool tied  up  in  a bit  of  old  handkerchief — 
and  with  this,  dipped  in  dry  whitening  or 

87 


Cutting 

(advanced) 


powdered  white  chalk,  dab  the  glass  all 
over ; then  blow  the  surface  and  you  will 
see  a clear  white  line  where  the  whitening 
has  stuck  to  the  greasy  line  made  by  the 
transfer  paper ; and  by  this  you  can  cut 
very  comfortably. 

But  a third  way  is  to  cut  the  shape  of 
each  piece  of  glass  out  in  cartridge-paper ; 
and  to  do  this  you  put  the  cut-line  down 
over  a sheet  of  “ continuous-cartridge  ” or 
“ cartoon  ” paper,  as  it  is  called,  and  press 
along  all  the  lines  with  a style  or  hard 
pencil,  so  as  to  make  a furrow  on  the 
paper  beneath ; then,  after  removing  the 
cut-line,  you  place  a sheet  of  ordinary 
window-glass  below  the  paper  and  cut  out 
each  piece,  between  the  “ furrows  ” leaving 
a full  TU-  of  an  inch.  This  sixteenth  of  an 
inch  represents  the  “heart”  or  core  of  the 
future  lead ; it  is  the  distance  which  the 
actual  bits  of  glass  lie  one  from  the  other 
in  the  window.  You  must  use  a very 
sharp  pen-knife,  and  you  will  find  that, 
cutting  against  glass , each  shape  will  have 
quite  a smooth  edge ; and  round  this  you 
can  cut  with  your  diamond. 

This  method,  which  is  far  the  most 
accurate  and  craftsmanly  way  of  cutting 
glass,  is  best  used  with  the  actual  diamond: 

88 


in  that  case  you  feel  the  edge  of  the  paper 
all  the  time  with  the  diamond-spark ; but 
in  cutting  with  the  wheel  you  must  not 
rest  against  the  edge  of  the  paper ; other- 
wise you  will  be  sure  to  cut  into  it.  Now, 
whichever  of  all  these  processes  you  em- 
ploy, remember  that 
there  must  be  a full 
tV  of  an  inch  left  be- 
tween each  piece  of 
glass  and  all  its  neigh- 
bours. 

The  reason  why  you 
leave  this  space  be- 
tween the  pieces  is  that 
the  core  of  the  lead  is 
about  that  or  a little 
less  in  thickness : the 
closer  the  glass  fits  to 
this  the  better,  but  no 
part  of  the  glass  must 
go  nearer  to  its  neigh- 
bour than  this,  otherwise  the  work  will 
be  pressed  outwards,  and  you  will  not  be 
able  to  get  the  whole  of  the  panel  within 
its  proper  limits. 

Fig-  34  is  an  illustration  of  various 
kinds  and  sizes  of  lead  ; showing  some 
with  the  glass  inserted  in  its  place.  By 

89 


Fig.  34. 


Cutting 

(advanced) 


Cutting 

(advanced) 


all  means  make  your  leads  yourself, 
for  many  of  those  ready 
made  are  not  lead  at  all, 
or  not  pure  lead.  Get 
the  parings  of  sheet  lead 
from  a source  you  can 
trust,  and  cast  them 
roughly  in  moulds  as 
at  fig.  35.  Fig.  36  is 
the  shears  by  which 
the  strips  may  be  cut ; fig.  37  is  the 
lead-mill  or  “vice”  by  which  they  are 


Fig.  35. 


milled  and  run  into  their  final  shape ; 
fig.  38  the  “cheeks”  or  blocks  through 
90 


which  the  lead  passes.  The  working  of  Cutting 
such*  an  instrument  is  a thing  that  is  (advanced) 
understood  in  a few  minutes  with  the 
instrument  itself  at  hand,  but  it  is  cum- 
brous to  explain  in  writing,  and  not  worth 


Fig.  37. 


while  ; since  if  you  purchase 
such  a thing,  obviously  the 
seller  will  be  there  to  explain 
its  use.  Briefly,— the  handle 
turns  two  wheels  with  milled 
edges  of  an  inch  apart; 
which,  at  one  motion,  draw 
the  lead  between  them,  mill 
it,  and  force  it  between  the 
two  “ cheeks”  (fig.  38), 
which  mould  the  outside  of 
the  lead  in  its  passage.  These  combined 
movements,  by  a continuous  pressure, 
squeeze  out  the  strip  of  lead  into  about 
twice  its  length;  correspondingly  decreas- 
ing its  thickness  and  finishing  it  as  it  goes. 

91 


Cutting  Some  principles  of  good  taste  and  common 
(advanced)  sense  regard  to  the  cutting  up  of  a 

Window  ; according  to  which  the  Cartoon  and 
Design  must  be  modified. — Never  disguise 
the  lead-line.  Cut  the  necessary  parts  first, 


Fig.  38. 


as  I said  before ; cut  the  optional  parts 
simply ; thinking  most  of  craft-conveni- 
ence, and  not  much  of  realism. 

Do  not,  however,  go  to  the  extent  of 
making  two  lead-lines  cross  each  other. 

92 


Fig.  39  shows  the  two  kinds  of  joint,  A Cutting 
being  the  wrong  one  (as  I hold),  and  (advanced) 
B the  right  one ; but,  after  all,  this  is 
partly  a question  of  taste. 

Do  not  cut  borders  and  other  minor 
details  into  measured  spaces ; cut  them 
hap-hazard. 

Do  not  cut  leafage  too  much  by  the 


outlines  of  the  groups  of  leaves — or  wings 
by  the  outlines  of  the  groups  of  feathers. 

Do  not  outline  with  lead-lines  any 
forms  of  minor  importance. 

Do  not  allow  the  whole  of  any  figure  to 
cut  out  dark  against  light,  or  light  against 
dark  ; but  if  the  figure  is  ever  so  bright, 
let  an  inch  or  two  of  its  outline  tell  out 
as  a dark  against  a spot  of  still  brighter 
light ; and  if  it  is  ever  so  dark,  be  it  red 

93 


Cutting  or  blue  as  strong  as  may  be,  let  an  inch  or 
(advanced)  two  0f  its  outline  tell  out  against  a still 
stronger  dark  in  the  background,  if  you 
have  to  paint  it  pitch-black  to  do  so. 

By  this  “ countercharging  ” (as  heralds 
say),  your  composition  will  melt  together 
with  a pleasing  mystery  ; for  you  must 
always  remember  that  a window  is,  after 
all,  only  a window,  it  is  not  the  church, 
and  nothing  in  it  should  stare  out  at  you 
so  that  you  cannot  get  away  from  it ; 
windows  should  “ dream,”  and  should  be 
so  treated  as  to  look  like  what  they  are, 
the  apertures  to  admit  the  light  ; subjects 
painted  on  a thin  and  brittle  film,  hung  in 
mid-air  between  the  light  and  the  dark. 

CHAPTER  VI 

Painting  (advanced)  — Waxing-up  — Cleanliness  — 
Further  Methods  of  Painting  — Stipple  — Dry 
Stipple — Film  — Effects  of  Distance — Danger 
of  Over-Painting — Frying. 

Painting  I have  mentioned  all  these  points  of 
(advanced)  judgment  and  good  taste  we  have  just 
finished  speaking  of,  because  they  are 
matters  that  must  necessarily  come  before 
you  at  the  time  you  are  making  the 
cartoon,  the  preliminary  drawing  of  the 
94 


window,  and  before  you  come  to  handle 
the  glass  at  all. 

But  it  is  now  necessary  to  tell  you  how 
the  whole  of  the  glass,  when  it  is  cut, 
must  be  fixed  together,  so  that  you  can 
both  see  it  and  paint  upon  it  as  a whole 
picture.  This  is  done  as  follows  : — 

First  place  the  cut-line  (for  the  making 
of  which  you  have  already  had  instruc- 
tions) face  upwards  on  the  bench,  and 
over  it  place  a sheet  of  glass,  as 
large  at  least  as  the  piece  you  mean  to 
paint.  Thick  window-glass,  what  glass- 
makers  call  “ thirty-two  ounce  sheet  ” — 
that  is,  glass  that  weighs  about  thirty- 
two  ounces  to  the  square  foot — will  do 
well  enough  for  very  small  subjects,  but 
for  anything  over  a few  square  feet,  it  is 
better  to  use  thin  plate-glass.  This  is 
expensive,  but  you  do  not  want  the  best ; 
what  is  called  “ patent  plate  ” does  quite 
well,  and  cheap  plate-glasb  can  often  be 
got  to  suit  you  at  the  salvage  stores, 
whither  it  is  brought  from  fires. 

Having  laid  your  sheet  of  glass  down 
upon  the  cut-line,  place  upon  it  ail  the 
bits  of  glass  in  their  proper  places ; then 
take  beeswax  (and  by  all  means  let  it 
be  the  best  and  purest  you  can  get ; get 

95 


Painting 

(advanced) 


Painting  it  at  a chemist’s,  not  at  the  oil-shop)? 
(advanced)  and  heat  a few  ounces  of  it  in  a sauce- 
pan, and  when  all  of  it  is  melted — not 
before,  and  as  little  after  as  may  be — 
take  any  convenient  tool,  a pen-knife  or 
a strip  of  glass,  and,  dipping  it  rapidly 
into  the  melted  wax,  convey  it  in  little 
drops  to  the  points  where  the  various 
bits  of  glass  meet  each  other,  dropping 
a single  drop  of  wax  at  each  joint.  It 
is  no  advantage  to  have  any  extra  drops 
along  the  sides  of  the  bits ; if  each  corner 
is  properly  secured,  that  is  all  that  is 
needed  (fig.  40). 

Some  people  use  a little  resin  or  tar 
with  the  wax  to  make  it  more  brittle,  so 
that  when  the  painting  is  finished  and  the 
work  is  to  be  taken  down  again  off  the 
plate,  the  spots  of  wax  will  chip  off  more 
easily.  I do  not  advise  it.  Boys  in  the 
shop  who  are  just  entering  their  appren- 
ticeship get  very  skilful,  and  quite  pro- 
perly so,  in  doing  this  work ; waxing  up 
yard  after  yard  of  glass,  and  never  drop- 
ing  a spot  of  wax  on  the  surface. 

It  is  much  to  be  commended  : all  things 
done  in  the  arts  should  be  done  as  well  as 
they  can  be  done,  if  only  for  the  sake  of 
character  and  training ; but  in  this  case  it 


is  a positive  advantage  that  the  work  should  Painting 
be  done  thus  cleanly,  because  if  a spot  of  (advanced) 


Fig.  40. 

wax  is  dropped  on  the  surface  of  the  glass 
that  is  to  be  painted  on,  the  spot  must  be 
carefully  scraped  off,  and  every  vestige  of 
g 97 


Painting  it  removed  with  a wet  duster  dipped  in  a 
(advanced)  little  grit  of  some  kind — pigment  does 
well — otherwise  the  glass  is  greasy  and  the 
painting  will  not  adhere. 

For  the  same  reason  the  wax-saucepan 
should  be  kept  very  clean,  and  the  wax 
frequently  poured  off,  and  all  sediment 
thrown  away.  A bit  of  cotton-fluff  off 
the  duster  is  enough  to  drag  a “ lump  ” 
out  on  the  end  of  the  waxing-tool,  which, 
before  you  have  time  to  notice  it,  will  be 
dribbling  over  the  glass  and  perhaps  spoil- 
ing it ; for  you  must  note  that  sometimes 
it  is  necessary  to  re-wax  down  unjired 
work,  which  a drop  of  wax  the  size  of  a 
pinhole,  flirted  off  from  the  end  of  the 
tool,  will  utterly  ruin.  How  important, 
then,  to  be  cleanly. 

And  in  this  matter  of  removing  such 
spots  from  fired  work,  do  please  note  that 
you  should  use  the  knife  and  the  duster 
alternately  for  each  spot.  Do  not  scrape  a 
batch  of  the  spots  off  first  and  then  go 
over  the  ground  again  with  the  duster — 
this  can  only  save  a second  or  two  of 
time,  and  the  merest  fraction  of  trouble ; 
and  these  are  ill  saved  indeed  at  the  cost 
of  doing  the  work  ill.  And  you  are  sure 
to  do  it  so,  for  when  the  spot  is  scraped 

98 


off  it  is  very  difficult  to  see  where  it  was  ; 
you  are  sure  to  miss  some,  in  going  over 
the  glass  with  a duster,  and  you  will  dis- 
cover them  again,  to  your  cost  and  annoy- 
ance, when  you  matt  over  them  for  the 
second  painting:  and,  just  when  you  cannot 
afford  to  spare  a single  moment — in  some 
critical  process — they  will  come  out  like 
round  o’s  in  the  middle  of  your  shading, 
compelling  you  to  break  off  your  work 
and  do  now  what  should  have  been  done 
before  you  began  to  paint. 

But  the  best  plan  of  all  is  to  avoid 
the  whole  thing  by  doing  the  work  cleanly 
from  the  first.  And  it  is  quite  easy ; for 
all  you  have  to  do  is  to  carry  the  tool 
horizontally  till  it  is  over  the  spot  where 
you  want  the  wax,  and  then,  by  a tilt  of 
the  hand,  slide  the  drop  into  its  place. 

Further  Methods  of  Fainting. — There 
are  two  chief  methods  of  treating  the 
matt — one  is  the  “ stipple,”  and  the  other 
the  “ film  ” or  badgered  matt. 

The  Stipple. — When  you  have  put  on 
your  matt  with  the  camel-hair  brush,  take 
a stippling  brush  (fig.  41)  and  stab  the 
matt  all  over  with  it  while  it  is  wet.  A 
great  variety  of  texture  can  be  got  in 
this  way,  for  you  may  leave  off  the  pro- 

99 


Painting 

(advanced) 


Painting 

(advanced) 


cess  at  any  moment ; if  you  leave  it  off 
soon,  the  work  will  be  soft 
and  biurred,  for,  not  being 
dry,  the  pigment  will  spread 
again  as  soon  as  you  leave 
off : but,  if  you  choose, 

you  can  go  on  stippling  till 
the  whole  is  dry,  when  the 
pigment  will  gather  up  into 
little  sharp  spots  like  pepper, 
and  the  glass  between  them 
will  be  almost  clear.  You 
must  bear  in  mind  that  you 
cannot  use  scrubs  over  work 
like  the  last  described,  and 
cannot  use  them  to  much 
advantage  over  stipple  at 
all.  You  can  draw  a needle 
through  ; but  as  a rule  you 
do  not  want  to  take  lights 
out  of  stipple,  since  you  can 
complete  the  shading  in  the 
single  process  by  stippling 
more  or  less  according  to  the 
light  and  shade  you  want. 

A very  coarse  form  of  the 
process  is  “ dry  ” stippling, 
where  you  stipple  straight 
on  to  the  surface  of  the  clear  glass,  with 
ioo 


Fig.  41. 


pigment  taken  up  off  the  palette  by  the  Painting 
stippling  brush  itself : for  coarse  distant  (advanced) 
work  this  may  be  sometimes  useful. 

Now  as  to  film.  We  have  spoken  of 
laying  on  an  even  matt  and  badgering  it 
smooth  ; and  you  can  use  this  with  a cer- 
tain amount  of  stipple  also  with  very  good 
effect ; but  you  are  to  notice  one  great  rule 
about  these  two  processes,  namely,  that  the 
same  amount  of  pigment  obscures  much  more 
light  used  in  film  than  used  in  stipple. 

Light  spreads  as  it  comes  through  open- 
ings ; and  a very  little  light  let,  in  pin- 
holes, through  a very  dark  matt,  will,  at 
a distance,  so  assert  itself  as  to  prevail 
over  the  darkness  of  the  matt. 

It  is  really  very  little  use  going  on  to 
describe  the  way  the  colour  acts  in  these 
various  processes  ; for  its  behaviour  varies 
with  every  degree  of  all  of  them.  One 
may  gradually  acquire  the  skill  to  com- 
bine all  the  processes,  in  all  their  degrees, 
upon  a single  painting ; and  the  only 
way  in  which  you  can  test  their  relative 
value,  either  as  texture  or  as  light  and 
shade,  is  to  constantly  practise  each  pro- 
cess in  all  its  degrees,  and  see  what  results 
each  has,  both  when  seen  near  at  hand 
and  also  when  seen  from  a distance.  It 


ioi 


Painting  is  useless  to  try  and  learn  these  things 
(advanced)  from  written  directions ; you  must  make 
them  your  own,  as  precious  secrets,  by 
much  practice  and  much  experiment, 
though  it  will  save  you  years  of  both  to 
learn  under  a good  master. 

But  this  question  of  distance  is  a most 
important  thing,  and  we  must  enlarge  upon 
it  a little  and  try  to  make  it  quite  clear. 

Glass-painting  is  not  like  any  other  paint- 
ing in  this  respect. 

Let  us  say  that  you  see  an  oil-painting — 
a portrait — at  the  end  of  the  large  room  in 
some  big  Exhibition.  You  stand  near  it 
and  say,  “ Yes,  that  is  the  King”  (or  the 
Commander-in-Chief),  “ a good  likeness  ; 
however  do  they  do  those  patent-leather 
boots  ? ” But  after  you  have  been  down 
one  side  of  the  room  and  turn  round  at 
the  other  end  to  yawn,  you  catch  sight  of 
it  again;  and  still  you  say,  “Yes,  it’s  a 
good  likeness,”  and  “ really  those  boots 
are  very  clever  ! ” But  if  it  had  been  your 
own  painting  on  glass , and  sitting  at  your 
easel  you  had  at  last  said,  “ Yes, — now  it’s 
like  the  drawing — that's  the  expression,” 
you  could  by  no  means  safely  count  on 
being  able  to  say  the  same  at  all  distances. 
You  may  say  it  at  ten  feet  off,  at  twenty, 
102 


and  yet  at  thirty  the  shades  may  all  gather  Painting 
together  into  black  patches ; the  drawing  (advanced) 
of  the  eyelids  and  eyes  may  vanish  in  one 
general  black  blot,  the  half-tones  on  the 
cheeks  may  all  go  to  nothing.  These 
actual  things,  for  instance,  will  be  the  result 
if  the  cheeks  are  stippled  or  scrubbed,  and 
the  shade  round  the  eyes  left  as  a film — 
ever  so  slight  a film  will  do  it.  Seen  near, 
you  see  the  drawing  through  the  film  ; but 
as  you  go  away  the  light  will  come  pour- 
ing stronger  and  stronger  through  the 
brush  or  stipple  marks  on  the  cheeks, 
until  all  films  will  cut  out  against  it  like 
black  spots,  altering  the  whole  expression 
past  recognition. 

Try  this  on  simple  terms : — 

Do  a face  on  white  glass  in  strong  out- 
line only  : step  back,  and  the  face  goes  to 
nothing  ; strengthen  the  outline  till  the 
forms  are  quite  monstrous — the  outline  of 
the  nose  as  broad  as  the  bridge  of  it — still, 
at  a given  distance,  it  goes  to  nothing;  the 
expression  varies  every  step  back  you  take. 

But  now,  take  a matting  brush,  with  a film  so 
thin  that  it  is  hardly  more  than  dirty  water; 
put  it  on  the  back  of  the  glass  (so  as  not  to 
wash  up  your  outline)  ; badger  it  flat,  so 
as  just  to  dim  the  glass  less  than  “ground 

103 


Painting  glass  ” is  dimmed; — and  you  will  find  your 
(advanced)  outline  look  almost  the  same  at  each  dis- 
tance. It  is  the  pure  light  that  plays  tricks, 
and  it  will  play  them  through  a pinhole. 

And  now,  finally,  let  us  say  that  you 
may  do  anything  you  can  do  in  the  paint- 
ing of  glass,  so  long  as  you  do  not  lay  the 
colour  on  too  thick.  The  outline-touches 
should  be  flat  upon  the  glass,  and  above  all 
things  should  not  be  laid  on  so  wet,  or  laid 
on  so  thick,  that  the  pigment  forms  into  a 
“drop  ” at  the  end  of  the  touch ; for  this 
drop,  and  all  pigment  that  is  thick  upon 
the  glass  like  that,  will  “ fry  ” when  it  is 
put  into  the  kiln  : that  is  to  say,  being  so 
thick,  and  standing  so  far  from  the  surface 
of  the  glass,  it  will  fire  separately  from  the 
glass  itself  and  stand  as  a separate  crust 
above  it,  and  this  will  perish. 

Plate  IX.  shows  the  appearance  of  the 
bubbles  or  blisters  in  a bit  of  work  that 
has  fried,  as  seen  under  a microscope  of 
20  diameters ; and  if  you  are  inclined 
to  disregard  the  danger  of  this  defect  as 
seen  of  its  natural  size,  when  it  is  a mere 
roughness  on  the  glass,  what  do  you  think 
of  it  now?  You  can  remove  it  at  once 
by  scraping  it  with  a knife ; and  indeed,  if 
through  accident  a touch  here  and  there 
104 


does  fry,  it  is  your  only  plan  to  so  remove  Painting 
it.  All  you  can  scrape  off  should  be  scraped  (advanced) 
off  and  repainted  every  time  the  glass  comes 
from  the  kiln  ; and  that  brings  us  to  the 
important  question  of  firing. 

CHAPTER  VII 

Firing  — Three  Kinds  of  Kiln  — Advantages  and 
Disadvantages — The  Gas-Kiln — Quick  Firing 
— Danger — Sufficient  Firing — Soft  Pigments — 

Difference  in  Glasses — “Stale”  Work — The 
Scientific  Tacts — How  to  Judge  of  Firing — 

Drawing  the  Kiln. 

The  way  in  which  the  painting  is  attached  Firing 
to  the  glass  and  made  permanent  is  by 
firing  it  in  a kiln  at  great  heat,  and  thus 
fusing  the  two  together. 

Simple  enough  to  say,  but  who  is  to 
describe  in  writing  this  process  in  all  its 
forms  ? For  there  is,  perhaps,  nothing  in 
the  art  of  stained-glass  on  which  there  is 
greater  diversity  of  opinion  and  diversity 
of  practice  than  this  matter  of  firing.  But 
let  us  make  a beginning  by  saying  that 
there  are,  it  may  be  said,  three  chief  modi- 
fications of  the  process. 

First,  the  use  of  the  old,  closed,  coke 
or  turf  kiln. 

Second,  of  the  closed  gas-kiln. 


105 


Firing 


And  third,  of  the  open  gas-kiln. 

The  first  consists  of  a chamber  of  brick 
or  terra-cotta,  in  which  the  glass  is  placed 
on  a bed  of  powdered  whitening,  on  iron 
plates,  one  above  another  like  shelves,  and 
the  whole  enclosed  in  a chamber  where  the 
heat  is  raised  by  a fire  of  coke  or  peat. 

This,  be  it  understood,  is  a slow  method. 
The  heat  increases  gradually,  and  applies 
to  the  glass  what  the  kiln-man  calls  a 
“good,  soaking  heat.”  The  meaning  of 
this  expression,  of  course,  is  that  the 
gradual  heat  gives  time  for  the  glass  and 
the  pigment  to  fuse  together  in  a natural 
way,  more  likely  to  be  good  and  per- 
manent in  its  results  than  a process 
which  takes  a twentieth  part  of  the  time 
and  which  therefore  (it  is  assumed)  must 
wrench  the  materials  more  harshly  from 
their  nature  and  state. 

There  are,  it  must  be  admitted,  one  or 
two  things  to  be  said  for  this  view  which 
require  answering. 

First,  that  this  form  of  kiln  has  the 
virtue  of  being  old ; for  in  such  a thing 
as  this,  beyond  all  manner  of  doubt,  was 
fired  all  the  splendid  stained-glass  of  the 
Middle  Ages. 

Second,  that  by  its  use  one  is  entirely 

106 


preserved  from  the  dangers  attached  to 
the  misuse  of  the  gas-kiln. 

But  the  answers  to  these  two  things  are— 
First,  that  the  method  employed  in  the 
Middle  Ages  did  not  invariably  ensure 
permanence.  Any  one  who  has  studied 
stained-glass  must  be  familiar  with  cases  in 
which  ancient  work  has  faded  or  perished. 

The  second  claim  is  answered  by  the 
fact,  I think  beyond  dispute,  that  all  ob- 
jections to  the  use  of  the  gas-kiln  would 
be  removed  if  it  were  used  properly ; it  is 
not  the  use  of  it  as  a process  which  is  in 
itself  dangerous,  but  merely  the  misuse  of 
it.  People  must  be  content  with  what  is 
reasonable  in  the  matter ; and,  knowing 
that  the  gas  - kiln  is  spoken  of  as  the 
“ quick-firing  ” kiln,  they  must  not  insist 
on  trying  to  fire  too  quick. 

Now  I have  the  highest  authority  (that  of 
the  makers  of  both  kiln  and  pigment)to  sup- 
port my  own  conviction,  founded  on  my  own 
experience,  in  what  I am  here  going  to  say.  j 
Observe,  then,  that  up  to  the  point  at 
which  actual  fusion  commences — that  is, 
when  pigment  and  glass  begin  to  get  soft 
— there  is  no  advantage  in  slowness,  and 
therefore  none  in  the  use  of  fuel  as  against 
gas — no  possible  disadvantage  as  far  as  the 

107 


Firing 


Firing  work  goes : only  it  is  time  wasted.  But 
where  people  go  wrong  is  in  not  observing 
the  vital  importance  of  proceeding  gently 
when  fusion  does  commence.  For  in  the 
actual  process  of  firing,  when  fusion  is 
about  to  commence,  it  is  indeed  all-im- 
portant to  proceed  gently ; otherwise  the 
work  will  “fry,”  and,  in  fact,  it  is  in 
danger  from  a variety  of  causes.  Make 
it,  then,  your  practice  to  aim  at  twenty 
to  twenty-five  minutes,  instead  of  ten  or 
twelve,  as  the  period  during  which  the 
pigment  is  to  be  fired,  and  regulate  the 
amount  of  heat  you  apply  by  that  standard. 
The  longer  period  of  moderate  heat  means 
safety.  The  shorter  period  of  great  heat 
means  danger,  and  rather  more  than  danger. 

Fig.  42  is  the  closed  gas-kiln,  where  the 
glass  is  placed  in  an  enclosed  chamber ; 
fig.  43  is  the  open  gas-kiln,  where  the  gas 
plays  on  the  roof  of  the  chamber  in  which 
the  glass  lies ; fig.  44  shows  this  latter. 
But  no  written  description  or  picture  is 
really  sufficient  to  make  it  safe  for  you  to  use 
these  gas-kilns.  You  would  be  sure  to  have 
some  serious  accident,  probably  an  explo- 
sion ; and  as  it  is  absolutely  necessary  for  you 
to  have  instruction,  either  from  the  maker 
or  the  experienced  user  of  them,  it  is  useless 
108 


for  me  to  tell  lamely  what  they  could  show 
thoroughly.  I shall  therefore  leave  this 


essentially  technical  part  of  the  subject,  and, 
omitting  these  details,  speak  of  the  few 
principles  which  regulate  the  firing  of  glass. 

109 


Firing 


Firing 


Fig.  43. 


IIO 


Firing 


III 


Firing 


And  the  first  is  to  fire  it  enough.  What- 
ever pigment  you  use,  and  with  whatever 
flux,  none  will  be  permanent  if  the  work 
is  under-fired;  indeed  I believe  that  under- 
firing is  far  more  the  cause  of  stained-glass 
perishing  than  the  use  of  untrustworthy 
pigment  or  flux ; although  it  must  always 
be  borne  in  mind  that  the  use  of  a soft 
pigment,  which  will  “ fire  beautifully  ” at 
a low  heat,  with  a fine  gloss  on  the  surface, 
is  always  to  be  avoided.  The  pigment  is 
fused,  no  doubt;  but  is  it  united  to  the 
glass  ? What  one  would  like  to  have 
would  be  a pigment  whose  own  fusing- 
point  was  the  same,  or  about  the  same,  as 
that  of  the  glass  itself,  so  that  the  surface, 
at  least,  of  the  piece  of  glass  softens  to  re- 
ceive it  and  lets  it  right  down  into  itself. 
You  should  never  be  satisfied  with  the 
firing  of  your  glass  unless  it  presents  two 
qualifications  : first,  that  the  surface  of  the 
glass  has  melted  and  begun  to  run  together; 
and  second,  that  the  fused  pigment  is  quite 
glossy  and  shiny,  not  the  least  dull  or  rusty 
looking,  when  the  glass  is  cool. 

“ What  one  would  like  to  have.” 

And  can  you  not  get  it  ? 

Well,  yes  ! but  you  want  experience  and 
constant  watchfulness — in  short,  “ rule  of 
1 12 


thumb.”  For  every  different  glass  differs  Firing 
in  hardness,  and  you  never  know,  except 
by  memory  and  constant  handling  of  the 
stuff,  exactly  what  your  materials  are  going 
to  do  in  the  kiln  ; for  as  to  standardising, 
so  as  to  get  the  glass  into  any  known  rela- 
tion with  the  pigment  in  the  matter  ot 
fusing,  the  thing  has  never,  as  far  as  I 
know,  been  attempted.  It  probably  could 
not  be  done  with  regard  to  all,  or  even 
many,  glasses — nor  need  it ; though  perhaps 
it  might  be  well  if  a nearer  approach  to  it 
could  be  achieved  with  regard  to  the  manu- 
facture of  the  lighter  tinted  glasses,  the 
“ whites  ” especially,  on  which  the  heads 
and  hands  are  painted,  and  where  conse- 
quently it  is  of  such  vital  importance  that 
the  painting  should  have  careful  justice 
done  to  it,  and  not  lose  in  the  firing  through 
uncertainty  with  regard  to  conditions. 

Nevertheless,  if  you  observe  the  rule  to 
fire  sufficiently,  the  worst  that  can  happen 
is  a disappointment  to  yourself  from  the 
painting  having  to  an  unnecessary  extent 
“fired  away”  in  the  kiln.  You  must  be 
patient,  and  give  it  a second  painting  ; and 
as  to  the  “ rule  of  thumb,”  it  is  surprising 
how  one  gets  to  know,  by  constant  handling 
the  stuff,  how  the  various  glasses  are  going 
h 1 13 


Firing  to  behave  in  the  fire.  It  was  the  method 
of  the  Middle  Ages  which  we  are  so  apt 
to  praise,  and  there  is  much  to  be  said  for 
practical,  craftsmanly  experience,  especially 
in  the  arts,  as  against  a system  of  formulas 
based  on  scientific  knowledge.  It  would 
be  a pity  indeed  to  get  rid  of  the  accidental 
and  all  the  delight  which  it  brings,  and  we 
must  take  it  with  its  good  and  bad. 

The  second  rule  with  regard  to  the  ques- 
tion of  firing  is  to  take  care  that  the  work 
is  not  “ stale  ” when  it  goes  into  the  kiln. 
Every  one  will  tell  you  a different  tale 
about  many  points  connected  with  glass, 
just  as  doctors  disagree  in  every  affair  of 
life.  In  talking  over  this  matter  of  keep- 
ing the  colour  fresh — even  talking  it  over 
with  one’s  practical  and  experienced  friends 
generally- — one  will  sometimes  hear  the  re- 
mark that  “ they  don’t  see  that  delay  can 
do  it  much  harm ; ” and  when  one  asks, 
“ Can  it  do  it  any  good  ? ” the  reply  will 
be,  “ Well,  probably  it  would  be  as  well  to 
fire  it  soon ; ” or  in  the  case  of  mixing, 
“ To  use  it  fresh.”  Now,  if  it  would  be 
“ as  well  ” — which  really  means  “ on  the 
safe  side” — then  that  seems  a sufficient 
reason  for  any  reasonable  man. 

But  indeed  I have  always  found  it  one 

u4 


of  the  chiefest  difficulties  with  pupils  to 
get  them  to  take  the  most  reasonable 
precautions  to  make  quite  sure  of  anything . 
It  is  just  the  same  with  matters  of 
measurement,  although  upon  these  such 
vital  issues  depend.  How  weary  one 
gets  of  the  phrase  “ it’s  not  far  out  ” — 
the  obvious  comment  of  a reasonable  man 
upon  such  a remark,  of  course,  being  that 
if  it  is  out  at  all  it’s,  at  any  rate,  too  far 
out.  A French  assistant  that  I had  once 
used  always  to  complain  of  my  demanding 
(as  he  expressed  it)  such  “ rigorous  accu- 
racy.” But  there  are  only  two  ways — to  be 
accurate  or  inaccurate ; and  if  the  former 
is  possible,  there  is  no  excuse  for  the  latter. 

But  as  to  this  question  of  freshness  of 
colour,  which  is  of  such  paramount  im- 
portance, I may  quote  the  same  authority 
I used  before — that  of  the  maker  of  the 
colour — to  back  my  own  experience  and 
previous  conviction  on  the  point,  which 
certainly  is  that  fresh  colour,  used  the 
same  day  it  is  ground  and  fired  the  same 
day  it  is  used,  fires  better  and  fires  away 
less  than  any  other. 

The  facts  of  the  case,  scientifically,  I 
am  assured,  are  as  follows.  The  pigment 
contains  a large  amount  of  soft  glass  in 

IJ5 


Firing 


Firing  a very  fine  state  of  division,  and  the 
carbonic  acid,  which  all  air  contains  (espe- 
cially that  of  workshops),  will  immediately 
begin  to  enter  into  combination  with  the 
alkalis  of  the  glass,  throw  out  the  silica, 
and  thus  disintegrate  what  was  brought 
together  in  the  first  instance  when  the 
glass  was  made.  The  result  of  this  is 
that  this  intruder  (the  carbonic  acid)  has 
to  be  driven  out  again  by  the  heat  of  the 
kiln,  and  is  quite  likely  to  disturb  the 
pigment  in  every  possible  way  in  the  pro- 
cess of  its  escape.  I have  myself  some- 
times noticed,  when  some  painted  work 
has  been  laid  aside  unusually  long  before 
firing,  some  white  efflorescence  or  crystal- 
lisation taking  place  and  coming  out  as  a 
white  dust  on  the  painted  surface. 

Now  it  is  not  necessary  to  know  here, 
in  a scientific  or  chemical  sense,  what  has 
actually  taken  place.  Two  things  are 
evident  to  common  sense.  One,  that  the 
change  is  organic,  and  the  other  that  it 
is  unpremeditated;  and  therefore,  on  both 
grounds,  it  is  a thing  to  avoid,  which 
indeed  my  friend’s  scientific  explanation 
sufficiently  confirms.  It  is  well,  therefore, 
on  all  accounts  to  paint  swiftly  and  con- 
tinuously, and  to  fire  as  soon  as  you  can ; 
1 16 


and  above  all  things  not  to  let  the  colour 
lie  about  getting  stale  on  the  palette. 
Mix  no  more  for  the  day  than  you  mean  to 
use  ; clean  your  palette  every  day  or  nearly 
so ; work  up  all  the  colour  each  time  you 
set  your  palette,  and  do  not  give  way  to 
that  slovenly  and  idle  practice  that  is 
sometimes  seen,  of  leaving  a crust  of  dry 
colour  to  collect,  perhaps  for  days  or  weeks, 
round  the  edge  of  the  mass  on  your  palette, 
and  then  some  day,  when  the  spirit  moves 
you,  working  this  in  with  the  rest,  to  im- 
peril the  safety  of  your  painting. 

How  to  Know  when  the  Glass  is  Fired 
Sufficiently. — This  is  told  by  the  colour 
as  it  lies  in  the  kiln — that  is,  in  such  a kiln 
that  you  can  see  the  glass ; but  who  can 
describe  a colour  ? You  have  nothing 
for  this  but  to  buy  your  experience.  But 
in  kilns  that  are  constructed  with  a peep- 
hole, you  can  also  tell  by  putting  in  a 
bright  iron  rod  or  other  shining  object 
and  holding  it  over  the  glass  so  as  to  see 
if  the  glass  reflects  it.  If  the  pigment  is 
raw  it  will  (if  there  is  enough  of  it  on  the 
glass  to  cover  the  surface)  prevent  the  piece 
of  glass  from,  reflecting  the  rod ; butdirectly 
it  is  fired  the  pigment  itself  becomes  glossy, 
and  then  the  surface  will  reflect. 

117 


Firing 


Firing 


This  is  all  a matter  of  practice  ; nothing 
can  describe  the  “ look  ” of  a piece  of 
glass  that  is  fired.  You  must  either 
watch  batch  after  batch  for  yourself  and 
learn  by  experience,  or  get  a good  kiln- 
man  to  point  out  fired  and  unfired,  and 
call  your  attention  to  the  slight  shades  of 
colour  and  glow  which  distinguish  one 
from  the  other. 

On  Taking  the  Glass  out  of  the  Fire. — 
And  so  you  take  the  glass  out  of  the 
fire.  In  the  old  kilns  you  take  the  fire 
away  from  the  glass,  and  leave  the  glass 
to  cool  all  night  or  so ; in  the  new,  you 
remove  it  and  leave  it  in  moderate  heat  at 
the  side  of  the  kiln  till  it  is  cool  enough 
to  handle,  or  nearly  cold.  And  then  you 
hold  it  up  and  look  at  it. 

CHAPTER  VIII 

The  Second  Painting — Disappointment  with  Fired 
Work — A False  Remedy — A Useful  Tool — 
The  Needle — A Resource  of  Desperation  — 
The  Middle  Course — Use  of  the  Finger — The 
Second  Painting — Procedure. 

The  Second  And  when  you  have  looked  at  it,  as  I 
Painting  said  just  now  yOU  should  do,  your  first 
thought  will  be  a wish  that  you  had  never 
1 1 8 


been  born.  For  no  one,  I suppose,  ever 
took  his  first  batch  of  painted  glass  out  of 
the  kiln  without  disappointment  and  with- 
out wondering  what  use  there  is  in  such 
an  art.  For  the  painting  when  it  went  in 
was  grey,  and  silvery,  and  sharp,  and  crisp, 
and  firm,  and  brilliant.  Now  all  is  altered  ; 
all  the  relations  of  light  and  shade  are 
altered ; the  sharpness  of  every  brush- 
mark  is  gone,  and  everything  is  not  only 
“washed  out”  to  half  its  depth,  but 
blurred  at  tnat.  Even  if  you  could  get 
it,  by  a second  painting,  to  look  exactly 
as  it  was  at  first,  you  think : “ What  a 
waste  of  life ! I thought  I had  done ! 
It  was  right  as  it  was ; I was  pleased  so 
far ; but  now  I am  tired  of  the  thing ; I 
don’t  want  to  be  doing  it  all  over  again.” 

Well,  my  dear  reader,  I cannot  tell  you 
a remedy  for  this  state  of  things — it  is  one 
of  the  conditions  of  the  craft ; you  must 
find  by  experience  what  pigment,  and  what 
glass,  and  what  style  of  using  them,  and 
what  amount  of  fire  give  the  least  of 
these  disappointing  results,  and  then  make 
the  best  of  it ; and  make  up  your  mind 
to  do  without  certain  effects  in  glass, 
which  you  find  are  unattainable. 

There  is,  however,  one  remedy  which  I 

119 


The  Second 
Painting 


The  Second 
Painting 


suppose  all  glass-painters  try,  but  eventu- 
ally discard.  I suppose  we  have  all  passed 
through  the  stage  of  working  very  dark, 
to  allow  for  the  firing-off ; and  I want  to 
say  a word  of  warning  which  may  prevent 
many  heartaches  in  this  matter.  1 having 
passed  through  them  all,  there  is  no  reason 
why  others  should.  Now  mark  very  care- 
fully what  follows,  for  it  is  difficult  to 
explain,  and  you  cannot  afford  to  let  the 
sense  slip  by  you. 

I told  you  that  a film  left  untouched 
would  always  come  out  as  a black  patch 
against  work  that  was  pierced  with  the 
scrub,  however  slightly. 

Now,  herein  lies  the  difficulty  of  work- 
ing with  a very  thick  matt ; for  if  it  is 
thick  enough  on  the  cheek  and  brow  of 
a face  to  give  strong  modelling  when 
fired,  then  whenever  it  has  passed  over  the 
previous  outline-painting,  for  example , in  the 
eyes , mouth , nostrils , &c.,  you  will find  that  the 
two  together  have  become  too  thick  for  the  scrub 
to  move. 

Now  you  do  not  need,  as  an  artist, 
to  be  told  that  it  is  fatal  to  allow  any 
part  of  your  painting  to  be  thus  beyond 
your  control ; to  be  obliged  to  say,  u It's 
too  dark,  but  unfortunately  I have  no 
120 


tools  that  will  lighten  it — it  will  not 
yield  to  the  scrub.” 

However,  a certain  amount  can  be  done 
in  this  direction  by  using,  on  the  shadows 
that  are  just  too  strong  for 
the  scrub,  a tool  made  by 
grinding  down  on  sand- 
paper a large  hog -hair 
brush,  and,  of  these,  what 
are  called  stencil-brushes 
are  as  good  as  any  (fig.  45). 

You  do  not  use  this  by 
dragging  it  over  the  glass 
as  you  drag  a scrub,  but 
by  pricking  the  whole  of 
the  surface  which  you  wish 
to  lighten.  This  will  make 
little  pinholes  all  over  it, 
which  will  be  sufficient  to 
let  the  patch  of  shadow 
gently  down  to  the  level 
of  the  surrounding  lighter 
modelling,  and  will  pre- 
vent your  dark  shadows 
looking  like  actual  “patches,”  as  we  de- 
scribed them  doing  a little  way  back. 

Further  than  this  you  cannot  go  : for 
I cannot  at  all  see  how  the  next  process 
I am  to  describe  can  be  a good  one,  though 

121 


The  Second 
Painting 


The  Second  I once  thought,  as  I suppose  most  do,  that 
Painting  it  WOuld  really  solve  the  difficulty.  What 
I allude  to  is  the  use  of  the  needle. 

Of  JVork  Etched  out  with  a Needle.— 
The  needle  is  a very  good  and  useful 
tool  for  stained  glass,  in  certain  opera- 
tions, but  I am  now  to  speak  of  it  as 
being  used  over  whole  areas  as  a sub- 
stitute for  the  scrub , in  order  to  deal  with 
a matt  too  dense  for  the  scrub  to  penetrate. 

The  needle  will,  to  be  sure,  remove 
such  a matt ; that  is  to  say,  will  remove 
lines  out  of  it,  quite  clear  and  sharp,  and 
this,  too,  out  of  a matt  so  dense,  that 
what  remains  does  not  fire  away  much  in 
the  kiln.  Here  is  a tempting  thing 
then  ! to  have  one’s  work  unchanged 
by  the  fire  ! And  if  you  could  achieve 
this  without  changing  the  character  of 
the  work  for  the  worse,  no  doubt  this 
method  would  be  a very  fine  thing.  But 
let  me  trace  it  step  by  step  and  try  to 
describe  what  happens. 

You  have  painted  your  outline  and  you 
put  a very  heavy  matt  over  it. 

Peril  No.  i. — If  your  matt  is  so  dense 
that  it  will  not  fire  off,  it  must  very  nearly 
approach  the  point  of  density  at  which  it 
will  fry.  How  then  about  the  portions 

122 


of  it  which  have  been  painted  on,  as  I 
have  said,  over  another  layer  of  pigment 
in  the  shape  of  the  outline  ? Here  is  a 
danger.  But  even  supposing  that  all  is 
safe,  and  that  you  have  just  stopped  short 
of  the  danger  point.  You  have  now 
your  dense,  rich,  brown  matt,  with  the 
outline  just  showing  through  it.  Proceed 
to  model  it  with  the  needle.  The  first 
stroke  will  really  frighten  you ; for  a 
flash  of  silver  light  will  spring  along  after 
the  point  of  the  needle,  so  dazzling  in 
contrast  to  the  extreme  dark  of  the  matt 
that  it  looks  as  if  the  plate  had  been  cut 
in  two,  while  the  matt  beside  it  becomes 
pitch-black  by  contrast.  Well,  you  go  on, 
and  by  putting  more  strokes,  and  reducing 
the  surrounding  darkness  generally,  you 
get  the  drawing  to  look  grey— but  you 
get  it  to  look  like  a grey  pen-drawing  or 
etchings  not  like  a painting  at  all.  We 
will  suppose  that  this  seems  to  you  no 
disadvantage  (though  I must  say,  at  once, 
that  I think  it  a very  great  one) ; but 
now  you  come  to  the  deep  shadows ; and 
these,  I need  hardly  say,  cut  themselves 
out,  more  than  ever,  like  dark  patches  or 
blots,  in  the  manner  already  spoken  of. 
You  try  pricking  it  with  the  brush  I have 

123 


The  Second 
Painting 


The  Second  described  for  that  operation,  and  it  will 
Painting  not  . then  yOU  resort  to  the  needle 

itself,  and  you  are  startled  at  the  little, 
hard,  glittering  specks  that  come  jumping 
out  of  the  black  shadow  at  each  touch. 
You  get  a finer  needle,  and  then  you 
sharpen  even  that  on  the  hone ; and 
perhaps  then,  by  pricking  gingerly  round 
the  edges  of  the  shadows,  you  may  get 
the  drawing  and  modelling  to  melt 
together  fairly  well.  But  beware ! for 
if  there  is  one  dot  of  light  too  many, 
the  expression  of  the  head  goes  to  the 
winds.  Let  us  say  that  such  a thing 
occurs ; you  have  pricked  one  pinhole 
too  many  round  the  corner  of  the 
mouth. 

What  can  you  do  ? 

You  take  your  tracing-brush  and  try  to 
mend  it  with  a touch  of  pigment  ; and 
so  on,  and  so  on  ; till  you  timidly 
say  (feeling  as  if  you  had  been  walking 
among  egg-shells  for  the  last  hour), 
“ Well,  I think  it  will  do , and  I daren’t 
touch  it  any  more.”  And  supposing  by 
these  means  you  get  a head  that  looks 
really  what  you  wanted  ; the  work  is  all 
what  glass-painters  call  “ rotten  ” ; liable 
to  flake  off  at  the  least  touch  ; isolated 

124 


bits  of  thick  crust,  cut  sheer  out  from  The  Second 
each  other,  with  clear  glass  between.  Painting 

In  short,  the  thing  is  a niggling  and 
botching  sort  of  process  to  my  mind, 
and  I hope  that  the  above  description  is 
sufficiently  life-like  to  show  that  I have 
really  given  it  a good  trial  myself — with, 
as  a result,  the  conclusion  certainly 
strongly  borne  home  to  me,  that  the 
delight  of  having  one’s  work  unchanged 
by  the  fire  is  too  dearly  purchased  at 
the  cost  of  it. 

How  to  get  the  greatest  degree  of  Strength 
into  your  Painting  without  Hanger. — Short 
of  using  a needle  then,  and  a matt  that 
will  only  yield  to  that  instrument,  I would 
advise,  if  you  want  the  work  strong,  that 
you  should  paint  the  matt  so  that  it  will 
just  yield,  and  only  just,  and  that  with 
difficulty,  to  the  scrub ; and,  before  you 
use  this  tool,  just  pass  the  finger,  lightly, 
backwards  and  forwards  over  the  matted 
surface.  This  will  take  out  a shimmer 
of  light  here  and  there,  according  to  the 
inequalities  of  the  texture  in  the  glass 
itself ; the  first  touches  of  the  scrub  will 
not  then  look  so  startling  and  hard  as  if 
taken  out  of  the  dead,  even  matt ; and 
also  this  rubbing  of  the  finger  across  the 

I25 


The  Second  surface  seems  to  make  the  matt  yield  more 
Painting  easily  to  the  tool.  The  dust  remaining 
on  the  surface  perhaps  helps  this ; any- 
how, this  is  as  far  as  you  can  go  on  the 
side  of  strength  in  the  work.  You  can 
of  course  “ back  ” the  work,  that  is,  paint 
on  the  back  as  well  as  the  front — a mere 
film  at  the  back ; but  this  is  a method  of 
a rather  doubtful  nature.  The  pigment  on 
the  back  does  not  fire  equally  well  with 
that  on  the  front,  and  when  the  window 
is  in  its  place,  that  side  will  be,  you  must 
bear  in  mind,  exposed  to  the  weather. 

I have  spoken  incidentally  of  rubbing 
the  glass  with  the  finger  as  a part  of 
painting ; but  the  practice  can  be  carried 
further  and  used  more  generally  than  I 
have  yet  said : the  little  “ pits  ” and 
markings  on  the  surface  of  the  glass, 
which  I mentioned  when  I spoke  of  the 
“ right  and  wrong  sides  ” of  the  material, 
can  be  drawn  into  the  service  of  the 
window  sometimes  with  very  happy  effect. 
Being  treated  with  matt  and  then  rubbed 
with  the  finger,  they  often  produce  very 
charming  varieties  of  texture  on  the  glass, 
which  the  painter  will  find  many  ways  of 
making  useful. 

Of  the  Second  Painting  of  Glass  after  it  has 

126 


been  Fired. — So  far  we  have  only  spoken  of 
the  appearance  of  work  after  its  first  fire, 
and  its  influence  upon  choice  of  method 
for  first  painting ; but  there  is  of  course  the 
resource  which  is  the  proper  subject  of 
this  chapter,  namely,  the  second  painting. 

Very  small  work  can  be  done  with  one 
fire ; but  only  very  skilful  painters  can 
get  work,  on  any  large  scale,  strong 
enough  for  one  fire  to  serve,  and  that 
only  with  the  use  of  backing.  Of  course 
if  very  faint  tones  of  shadow  satisfy  you, 
the  work  can  be  done  with  one  fire ; but 
if  it  is  well  fired  it  must  almost  of 
necessity  be  pale.  Some  people  like  it 
so — it  is  a matter  of  taste,  and  there  can 
be  no  pronouncement  made  about  it ; but 
if  you  wish  your  work  to  look  strong  in 
light  and  shade — stronger  than  one  paint- 
ing will  make  it — I advise  you,  when  the 
work  comes  back  from  the  fire  and  is 
waxed  up  for  the  second  time  (which,  in 
any  case,  it  assuredly  should  be,  if  only 
for  your  judgment  upon  it),  to  proceed 
as  follows. 

First,  with  a tracing-brush,  go  over  all 
the  lines  and  outlined  shadows  that  seem 
too  weak,  and  then,  when  these  touches 
are  quite  dry,  pass  a thin  matt  over  the 

127 


The  Second 
Painting 


The  Second  whole,  and  with  stippling-brushes  of 
Painting  various  sizes,  stipple  it  nearly  all  away 
while  wet.  You  will  only  have  about 
five  minutes  in  which  to  deal  with  any 
one  piece  of  glass  in  this  way,  and  in  the 
case  of  a head,  for  example,  it  needs  a skil- 
ful hand  to  complete  it  in  that  short  space 
of  time.  The  best  plan  is  to  make  several 
“ shots  ” at  it ; if  you  do  not  hit  the  mark 
the  first  time,  you  may  the  second  or  the 
third.  I said  “ stipple  it  nearly  all  away  ” ; 
but  the  amount  left  must  be  a matter  of 
taste ; nevertheless,  you  must  note  that 
if  you  do  not  remove  enough  to  make 
the  work  look  “ silvery,”  it  is  in  danger 
of  looking  “ muddy.”  All  the  ordinary 
resources  of  the  painter’s  art  may  be 
brought  in  here  : retouching  into  the  half- 
dry second  matt,  dabbing  with  the  finger 
— in  short,  all  that  might  be  done  if  the 
thing  were  a water-colour  or  an  oil- 
painting  ; but  it  is  quite  useless  to  attempt 
to  describe  these  deftnesses  of  hand  in 
words : you  may  use  any  and  every  method 
of  modifying  the  light  and  shade  that 
occurs  to  you. 


128 


CHAPTER  IX 

Of  Staining  and  Aciding — Yellow  Stain — Aciding — 
Caution  required  in  Use — Remedy  for  Burning 
— Uses  of  Aciding — Other  Resources  of  Stained- 
Glass  Work. 


Yellow  stain,  or  silver  stain  as  some  call 
it,  is  made  in  various  ways  from  silver — 
chloride,  sulphate,  and  nitrate,  I under- 
stand, are  all  used.  The  stain  is  laid  on 
exactly  like  the  pigment,  but  at  the  back 
of  the  glass.  It  does  not  work  very 
smoothly,  and  some  painters  like  to  mix 
it  with  Venice  turpentine  instead  of  water 
to  get  rid  of  this  defect ; whichever  you 
use,  keep  a separate  set  of  tools  and  a 
separate  palette  for  it,  and  always  keep 
them  clean  and  the  stain  fresh  mixed. 
Also  you  should  not  fire  it  with  so  strong 
a heat,  and  therefore,  of  course,  you  should 
never  fire  pigment  and  stain  in  the  same 
batch  in  the  kiln ; otherwise  the  stain 
will  probably  go  much  hotter  in  colour 
than  you  wish,  or  will  get  muddy,  or  will 
“ metal  ” as  painters  call  it — that  is,  get 
a horny,  burnt-sienna  look  instead  of  a 
clear  yellow. 


Of  Stain- 
ing and 
Aciding 


I 


129 


Of  Stain- 
ing and 
Aciding 


How  to  Etch  the  Flash  off  a Flashed  Glass 
with  Acid. — There  is  only  one  more  pro- 
cess, having  to  do  with  painting,  which  I 
shall  describe,  and  that  is  “ aciding.”  By 
this  process  you  can  etch  the  flash  off  the 
flashed  glasses  where  you  like.  The  process 
is  the  same  as  etching — you  “ stop-out  ” 
the  parts  that  you  wish  to  remain,  just  as 
in  etching ; but  instead  of  putting  the 
stopping  material  over  the  whole  bit  of 
glass  and  then  scratching  it  off,  as  you  do 
in  copper-plate  etching,  it  is  better  for  the 
most  part  to  paint  the  stopping  on  where 
you  want  it,  and  this  is  conveniently  done 
with  Brunswick  black,  thinned  down  with 
turpentine ; if  you  add  a little  red  lead  to 
it,  it  does  no  harm.  You  then  treat  it  to 
a bath  of  fluoric  acid  diluted  with  water 
and  placed  in  a leaden  pan ; or,  if  it  is 
only  a touch  you  want,  you  can  get  it  off 
with  a mop  of  cotton-wool  on  a stick, 
dipped  in  the  undiluted  acid ; but  be  care- 
ful of  the  fumes,  for  they  are  very  acrid 
and  disagreeable  to  the  eyes  and  nose ; 
take  care  also  not  to  get  the  acid  on  your 
finger-ends  or  nails,  especially  into  cuts  or 
sore  places.  For  protection,  india-rubber 
finger-stalls  for  finger  and  thumb  are  very 
good,  and  you  can  get  these  at  any  shop 
130 


where  photographic  materials  are  sold.  If 
you  do  get  any  of  the  acid  on  to  your 
hands  or  into  a cut,  wash  them  with 
diluted  carbonate  of  soda  or  diluted 
ammonia.  The  acid  must  be  kept  in  a 
gutta-percha  bottle. 

When  the  adding  is  done,  as  far  as  you 
want  it,  the  glass  must  be  thoroughly 
rinsed  in  several  waters ; do  not  leave  any 
acid  remaining,  or  it  will  continue  to  act 
upon  the  glass.  You  must  also  be  careful 
not  to  use  this  process  in  the  neighbour- 
hood of  any  painted  work,  or,  in  short,  in 
the  neighbourhood  of  any  glass  that  is  of 
consequence,  the  fumes  from  the  acid 
acting  very  strongly  and  very  rapidly. 
This  process,  of  course,  may  be  used  in 
many  ways  : you  can,  by  it,  acid  out  a 
diaper  pattern,  red  upon  white,  white  upon 
red;  and  blue  may  be  treated  in  the  same 
fashion ; the  white  lights  upon  steel 
armour,  for  instance,  may  be  obtained  in 
this  way  with  very  telling  efFect,  getting 
indeed  the  beautiful  combination  of  steely 
blue  with  warm  brown  which  we  admire 
so  in  Burne-Jones  cartoons ; for  the 
brown  of  the  pigment  will  not  show 
warm  on  the  blue,  but  will  do  so  directly 
it  passes  on  to  the  white  of  the  added 

I3I 


Of  Stain- 
ing and 
Aciding 


Of  Stain- 
ing and 
Aciding 


parts.  This  is  the  last  process  I need 
describe ; the  many  little  special  refine- 
ments to  be  got  by  playing  games  with 
the  lead-lines;  by  thickening  and  thin- 
ning them  ; by  doubling  glass,  to  get  depth 
and  intensity,  or  to  blend  new  tints ; — - 
these  and  such  like  are  the  things  that  any 
artist  who  does  his  own  work  and  practises 
his  own  craft  can  find  out,  and  ought  to 
find  out,  and  is  bound  to  find  out,  for 
himself— they  are  the  legitimate  reward 
of  the  hand  and  heart  labour  spent, 
as  a craftsman  spends  them,  upon  the 
material.  Suffice  it  to  say  that  in  spite 
of  the  great  skill  which  has  been  em- 
ployed upon  stained-glass,  ancient  and 
modern,  and  employed  in  enormous 
amount ; and  in  spite  of  the  great  and 
beautiful  results  achieved ; we  may  yet 
look  upon  stained-glass  as  an  art  in  which 
there  are  still  new  provinces  to  explore- — 
walking  upon  the  old  paths,  guided  by 
the  old  landmarks,  but  gathering  new 
flowers  by  the  way. 

We  must  now,  then,  turn  our  attention 
to  the  mechanical  processes  by  which  the 
stained-glass  window  is  finished  off. 


132 


CHAPTER  X 


Leading-Up  and  Fixing — Setting  out  the  Bench — 

Relation  of  Leading  to  mode  of  Fixing  in  the 
Stone — Processof  Fixing — Leading-Up  Resumed 
— Straightening  the  Lead- — The  “ Lathykin  ” 

— The  Cutting- Knife  — The  Nads  — The 
Stopping-Knife — Knocking  Up. 

You  first  place  your  cut-line,  face  upward,  Leading- 
upon  the  bench,  and  pin  it  down  there.  ?nd 
You  next  cut  two  “straight-edges”  of  lxing 

wood,  one  to  go  along  the  base  line  of  the 
section  you  mean  to  lead  up,  and  the  other 
along  the  side  that  lies  next  to  you  on  the 
bench  as  you  stand  at  work ; for  you 
always  work/nwz  one  side , as  you  will  soon 
see.  And  it  is  important  that  you  should 
get  these  straight-edges  at  a true  right 
angle,  testing  them  carefully  with  the  set- 
square.  Fig.  46  represents  a bench  set 
out  for  leading-up. 

You  must  now  build  the  glass  together, 
as  a child  puts  together  his  puzzle- map, 
one  bit  at  a time,  working  from  the  base 
corner  that  is  opposite  your  left  hand. 

But  first  of  all  you  must  place  a strip 
of  extra  wide  and  flat  lead  close  against 

133 


Leading- 
Up  and 
Fixing 


each  of  your  straight-edges,  so  that  the 
core  of  the  lead  corresponds  with  the  out- 
side line  of  your  work. 

It  will  be  right  here  to  explain  what 


relation  the  extreme  outside  measurement 
of  your  work  should  bear  to  the  daylight 
sizes  of  the  openings  that  it  has  to  fill. 
134 


I think  we  may  say  that,  whatever  the 
“ mouldings  ” may  be  on  the  stone,  there 
is  always  a flat  piece  at  exact  right  angles 
to  the  face  of  the  wall  in  which  the 
window  stands,  and  it  is  in  this  flat  piece 
that  the  groove  is  cut  to  receive  the  glass 
(%•  47)- 

Now,  as  the  glazed  light  has  to  fill 
the  daylight  opening,  there  must  obviously 
be  a piece  beyond  the  “daylight”  size  to 


go  into  the  stone.  By  slipping  the  glazed 
light  in  sideways , and  even,  in  large  lights, 
by  bending  it  slightly  into  a bow,  you  can 
just  get  into  the  stone  a light  an  inch,  or 
nearly  so,  wider  than  the  opening ; but 
the  best  way  is  to  use  an  extra  wide  lead 
on  the  outside  of  your  light,  and  bend 
back  the  outside  leaf  of  it  both  front  and 
back  so  that  they  stand  at  right  angles 

x35 


Leading- 
Up  and 
Fixing 


Leading- 
Up  and 
Fixing 


to  the  surface  of  the  glass  (fig.  48).  By 
this  means  you  can  reduce  the  size  of  the 
panel  by  almost  \ of  an  inch  on  each 
side ; you  can  push  the  panel  then,  with- 
out either  bending  or  slanting  it  much, 
up  to  its  groove ; and,  putting  one  side 
as  far  as  it  will  go  into  the  groove,  you 
can  bend  back  again  into  their  former 
place  the  two  leaves  of  the  lead  on  the 
opposite  side ; and  when  you 
have  done  that  slide  them  as 
far  as  they  will  go  into  their 
groove,  and  do  the  same  by 
the  opposite  pair.  You  will 
then  have  the  panel  in  its 
groove,  with  about  \ of  an 
inch  to  hold  by  and  \ of  an 
inch  of  lead  showing.  Some 
people  fancy  an  objection  to  this ; per- 
haps in  very  small  windows  it  might 
look  better  to  have  the  glass  “ flush  ” 
with  the  stone ; but  for  myself  I like 
to  see  a little  showing  of  that  outside 
lead,  on  to  which  so  many  of  the  leads 
that  cross  the  glass  are  fastened.  Any- 
way you  must  bear  the  circumstance  in 
mind  in  fixing  down  your  straight-edges 
to  start  glazing  the  work ; and  that 
is  why  I have  made  this  digression  by 
136 


Fig.  48. 


mentioning  now  something  that  properly  Leading- 
belongs  to  fixing.  UP  *nd 

Now  before  beginning  to  glaze  you  must  s 

stretch  and  straighten  the  lead  ; and  this  is 
done  as  follows  (fig.  49 — Frontispiece), 

Hold  the  “ calm  ” of  lead  in  your  left 
hand,  and  run  the  finger  and  thumb  of 
your  right  hand  down  the  lead  so  as  to 
get  the  core  all  one  way  and  not  at  all 
twisted : then,  holding  one  end  firmly 
under  your  right  foot,  take  tight  hold 
of  the  other  end  with  your  pliers,  and 
pull  with  nearly  all  your  force  in  the 
direction  of  your  right  shoulder.  Take 
care  not  to  pull  in  the  direction  of  your 
face ; for  if  you  do,  and  the  lead  breaks, 
you  will  break  some  of  your  features  also. 

It  is  very  important  to  be  careful  that 
the  lead  is  truly  straight  and  not  askew, 
otherwise,  when  you  use  it  in  leading,  the 
glass  will  never  keep  flat.  The  next 
operation  is  to  open  the  lead  with  a piece 
of  hard  wood,  such  as  boxwood  or  lignum - 
vita  (fig.  50),  made  to  your  fancy  for 
the  purpose,  but  something  like  the  dia- 
gram, which  glaziers  call  a “ lathykin  ” 

(as  I understand  it).  For  cutting  the 
lead  you  must  have  a thin  knife  of  good 
steel.  Some  use  an  old  dinner-knife, 

137 


Leading- 
Up  and 
F ixing 


138 


bit? 


some  a palette-knife  cut  down — either 
square  across  the  blade  or  at  an  angle — it 
is  a matter  of  taste  (fig.  51). 

Having  laid  down  your  leads  A and 
B (fig.  52),  put  in  the  corner  piece  of 
glass  (No.  1 ) ; two  of  its  sides  will  then 
be  covered,  leaving  one  uncovered.  Take 


a strip  of  lead  and  bend  it  round  the 
uncovered  edge,  and  cut  it  off  at  D,  so 
that  the  end  fits  close  and  true  against 
the  core  of  lead  A.  And  you  must  take 
notice  to  cut  with  a perfectly  vertical  cut, 
otherwise  one  side  will  fit  close  and  the 
other  will  leave  a gap. 

In  fig.  53  A represents  a good  joint, 
B a bad  one.  Bend  it  round  and  cut  it 

139 


Leading- 
Up  and 
F ixing 


Leading- 
Up  and 
Fixing 


off  similarly  at  E.  Common  sense  will 
tell  you  that  you  must  get  the  angle 
correct  by  marking  it  with  a slight  in- 
cision of  the  knife  in  its  place  before  you 
take  it  on  to  the  bench  for  the  final  cut. 

Slip  it  in,  and  push  it  in  nice  and  tight, 
and  put  in  piece  No.  2. 

But  now  look  at  your  cut-line.  Do 
you  see  that  the  inner  edges  of  pieces  2, 
3,  and  4 all  run  in  a fairly  smooth  curve, 
along  which  a continuous  piece  of  lead  will 


A fig.  53  B 


bend  quite  easily?  Leave,  then,  that  edge, 
and  put  in,  first,  the  leads  which  divide 
No.  2 from  No.  3,  and  No.  3 from  No.  4. 
Now  don’t  forget ! the  long  lead  has  to  come 
along  the  inside  edges  of  all  three ; so  the 
leaf  of  it  will  overlap  those  three  edges 
nearly  \ of  an  inch  (supposing  you  are 
using  lead  of  i inch  dimension).  You 
must  therefore  cut  the  two  little  bits  we 
are  now  busy  upon  £ of  an  inch  short  of  the 
top  edge  of  the  glass  (fig.  54),  for  the  inside 
leads  only  meet  each  other ; it  is  only  the 
outside  lead  that  overlaps. 

140 


V 


How  the  Loose  Glass  is  held  in  its  place  Leading- 

while  Leading. — This  is  done  with  nails  UP 

Fixing 


Fig.  54. 

driven  into  the  glazing  table,  close  up 
against  the  edge  of  the  lead ; and  the  best 
of  all  for  the  purpose  are  bootmakers’ 
“ lasting  nails  ” ; therefore  no  more  need 
be  said  about  the  matter ; “ use 
no  other”  (fig.  55). 

And  you  tap  them  in  with  two 
or  three  sharp  taps ; not  of  a 
hammer,  for  you  do  not  want  to 
waste  time  taking  up  a fresh  tool, 
but  with  the  end  of  your  lead- 
ing-knife which  is  called  a “stop- 
ping-knife” (fig.  56),  and  which 
lead-workers  generally  make  for  _ 

o j Fig  cc 

themselves  out  of  an  oyster-knife, 
by  bending  the  blade  to  a convenient 
working  angle  for  manipulating  the  lead, 
and  graving  out  lines  in  the  lower  part 

I4I 


Leading- 
Up  and 
Fixing 


Fig.  56. 


I42 


of  the  handle,  into  which  they  run  solder, 
terminating  it  in  a solid  lump  at  the  butt- 
end  which  forms  an  excellent  substitute 
for  a hammer. 

Now  as  soon  as  you  have  got  the  bits 
I,  2,  3,  4 in  their  places,  with  the  leads 
F,  G and  H,  I between  them,  you  can 
take  out  the  nails  along  the  line  K,  F,  H, 
M,  one  by  one  as  you  come  to  them, 
starting  from  K ; and  put  along  that  line 
one  lead  enclosing  the  whole  lot,  replacing 
the  nails  outside  it  to  keep  all  firm  as 
you  work ; and  you  must  note  that  you 
should  look  out  for  opportunities  to  do 
this  always,  whenever  there  is  a long  line 
of  the  cut-line  without  any  abrupt  corners 
in  it.  You  will  thus  save  yourself  the 
cutting  (and  afterwards  the  soldering) 
of  unnecessary  joints  ; for  it  is  always 
good  to  save  labour  where  you  can 
without  harm  to  the  work  ; and  in  this 
case  the  work  is  all  the  better  for  it. 

Now,  when  you  have  thus  continued 
the  leading  all  the  way  across  the  panel, 
put  on  the  other  outside  lead,  and  so  work 
on  to  a finish. 

When  the  opposite,  outside  lead  is  put 
on,  remove  the  nails  and  take  another 
straight-edge  and  put  it  against  the  lead, 

1 43 


Leading- 
Up  and 
Fixing 


Leading- 
Up  and 
Fixing 


Soldering 


and  “ knock  it  up  ” by  hitting  the 
straight-edge  until  you  get  it  to  the 
exact  size ; at  the  same  time  taking 
your  set-square  and  testing  the  corners 
to  see  that  all  is  at  right  angles. 

Leave  now  the  panel  in  its  place,  with 
the  straight-edges  still  enclosing  it,  and 
solder  off  the  joints. 

CHAPTER  XI 

Soldering — Handling  the  Leaded  Panel — Cementing 
— Recipe  for  Cement — The  Brush — Division 
of  Long  Lights  into  Sections — How  Joined 
when  Fixed — -Banding — Fixing — Chipping  out 
the  Old  Glazing  — Inserting  the  New  and 
Cementing. 

If  the  leads  have  got  tarnished  you 
may  brush  them  over  with  the  wire 
brush  (fig.  57),  which  glaziers  call  a 
“ scratch-card  ” ; but  this  is  a wretched 
business  and  need  never  be  resorted  to 
if  you  work  with  good  lead  and  work 
“ fresh  and  fresh,”  and  finish  as  you  go, 
not  letting  the  work  lie  about  and  get 
stale.  Take  an  old-fashioned  tallow 
“ dip  ” candle,  and  put  a little  patch 
of  the  grease  over  each  joint,  either  by 
rubbing  the  candle  itself  on  it,  or  by 
144 


melting  some  of  it  in  a saucepan  and 
applying  it  with  a brush.  Then  take 
your  soldering-iron  (fig.  58)  and  get  it 
to  the  proper  heat,  which  you  must  learn 
by  practice,  and  proceed  to  “ tin  ” it  by 
rubbing  it  on  a sheet  of  tin  with  a little 
solder  on  it,  and  also  some  resin  and  a 
little  glass-dust,  until  the  “ bit  ” (which  is 
of  copper)  has  a bright  tin  face.  Then, 


Fig.  57. 


holding  the  stick  of  solder  in  the  left 
hand,  put  the  end  of  it  down  close  to  the 
joint  you  wish  to  solder,  and  put  the  end 
of  the  iron  against  it,  “ biting  off  ” as  it 
were,  but  really  melting  off,  a little  bit, 
which  will  form  a liquid  drop  upon  the 
joint.  Spread  this  drop  so  as  to  seal 
up  the  joint  nice  and  smooth  and  even, 
and  the  thing  is  done.  Repeat  with  all 
the  joints ; then  turn  the  panel  over  and 
do  the  opposite  side. 

K 


Soldering 


H5 


How  to  Handle  headed 
Lights. — I said  “ turn  the 
panel  over.”  But  that 
brings  to  mind  a caution 
that  you  need  about  the 
handling  of  leaded  lights. 
You  must  not — as  I once 
saw  a man  do — start  to 
hold  them  as  a waiter 
does  a tray.  You  must 
note  that  thin  glass  in  the 
sheet  and  also  leaded 
lights,  especially  before 
cementing,  are  not  rigid, 
and  cannot  be  handled  as 
if  they  were  panels  of 
wood ; you  must  take 
care,  when  carrying  them, 
or  when  they  lean  against 
the  wall,  to  keep  them  as 
nearly  upright  as  they 
will  safely  stand,  and  the 
inside  one  leaning  against 
a board,  and  not  bearing 
its  own  weight.  And  in 
laying  them  on  the  bench 
or  in  lifting  them  off  it, 
you  must  first  place  them 
so  that  the  middle  line  of 


them  corresponds  with  the  edge  of  the 
bench,  or  table,  and  then  turn  them  on 
that  as  an  axis,  quickly,  so  that  they  do 
not  bear  their  own  weight  longer  than 
necessary  (figs.  59  and  60). 

How  to  Cement  a Leaded  Light . — The 
next  process  is  the  cementing  of  the 
light  so  as  to  fill  up  the  grooves  of  the 
lead  and  make  all  weather-proof.  This 
is  done  with  a mixture  composed  as 
follows  : — Whitening,  § to  plaster  of  Paris 
J ; add  a mixture  of  equal  quantities  of 
boiled  linseed-oil  and  spirit  of  turpentine 
to  make  a paste  about  as  thick  as  treacle. 
Add  a little  red  lead  to  help  to  harden 
it,  some  patent  dryer  to  cause  it  to  dry, 
and  lamp-black  to  colour. 

This  must  be  put  in  plenty  on  to  the 
surface  of  the  panel  and  well  scrubbed 
into  the  joints  with  a hard  fibre  brush  ; 
an  ordinary  coarse  “ grass  brush  ” or 
“ bass  brush,”  with  wooden  back,  as  sold 
for  scrubbing  brushes  at  the  oil  shops, 
used  in  all  directions  so  as  to  rub  the 
stuff  into  every  joint. 

But  you  must  note  that  if  you  have 
“ plated  ” {i.e.  doubled)  any  of  the  glass 
you  must,  before  cementing,  putty  those 
places.  Otherwise  the  cement  may  pro- 

H7 


Soldering 


Soldering  bably  run  in  between  the  two,  producing 
blotches  which  you  have  no  means  of 
reaching  in  order  to  remove  them. 


Fig.  59. 

You  can,  if  you  like,  clean  away  all  the 
cement  along  the  edges  of  the  leads ; but 
it  is  quite  easy  to  be  too  precise  and  neat 
148 


in  the  matter  and  make  the  work  look  Soldering 


hard.  If  you  do  it,  a blunted  awl  will 
serve  your  turn. 

One  had  better  mention  everything, 

149 


Soldering  and  therefore  I will  here  say  that,  of 


course,  a large  light  must  be  made  in 
sections ; and  these  should  not  exceed 
four  feet  in  height,  and  less  is  better.  In 
fixing  these  in  their  place  when  the 
window  is  put  up  (an  extra  wide  flat 
lead  being  used  at  the  top  and  bottom 
of  each  section),  they  are  made  to 


thus — (fig.  6 1 b).  It  is  just  as  well  to  make 
every  question  clear  if  one  can,  and  there- 
fore I mention  this.  Most  people  like 
their  windows  weather  - tight,  and,  of 
course,  will  make  the  overlapping  lead  the 
top  one ; but  it’s  a free  country,  and  I 
don’t  pretend  to  dictate,  content  if  I make 
the  situation  clear  to  you,  leaving  you  to 
deal  with  it  according  to  your  own  fancy. 
All  is  now  done  except  the  banding. 


Fig.  6ia.  Fig.  6ib. 


overlap  ; and  if  you 
wish  the  whole 
drainage  of  the 
window  to  pass  in- 
to the  building,  of 
course  you  will  put 
your  section  thus — 
(fig.  6 1 a)  ; while  if 
you  wish  the  work 
to  be  weather-tight 
you  will  place  it 


150 


How  to  Band  a Leaded  Light.— Banding  Soldering 
means  the  putting  on  of  the  little  ties  of 
copper  wire  by  which  the  window  has  to 
be  held  to  the  iron  crossbars  that  keep  it 
in  its  place.  These  ties  are  simply  short 
lengths  of  copper  wire,  generally  about 
four  inches  long,  but  varying,  of  course, 
with  the  size  of  the  bar  that  you  mean  to 
use  ; and  these  are  to  be  soldered  vertically 
(fig.  62)  on  to  the  face  of  the  light  at  any 
convenient  places  along  the  line  where  the 
bar  will  cross.  In  fixing  the  window,  these 
wires  are  to  be  pulled  tight  round  the  bar 
and  twisted  up  with  pliers,  and  the  twisted 
end  knocked  down  flat  and  neat  against 
the  bar. 

And  this  is  the  very  last  operation  in 
the  making  of  a stained-glass  window. 

It  now  only  remains  to  instruct  you  as 
to  what  relates  to  the  fixing  of  it  in  its 
place. 

How  to  Fix  a Window  in  its  Place — There 
is,  almost  always,  a groove  in  the  stone- 
work to  receive  the  glass ; and,  except  in 
the  case  of  an  unfinished  building,  this  is, 
of  course,  occupied  by  some  form  of  plain 
glazing.  You  must  remove  this  by  chipping 
out  with  a small  mason’s  chisel  the  cement 
with  which  it  is  fixed  in  the  groove,  and 

I5I 


Soldering  common  sense  will  tell  you  to  begin  at  the 


Fig.  62. 

bottom  and  work  upwards.  This  done, 
152 


untwist  the  copper  bands  from  the  bars 
and  put  your  own  glass  in  its  place,  re- 
fixing the  bars  (or  new  ones)  in  the  places 
you  have  determined  on  to  suit  your  design 
and  to  support  the  glass,  and  fixing  your 
glass  to  them  in  the  way  described,  and 
pointing  the  whole  with  good  cement. 
The  method  of  inserting  the  new  glass 
is  described  at  p.  135. 

But  that  it  is  good  for  a man  to  feel  the 
satisfaction  of  knowing  his  craft  thoroughly 
there  would  be  no  need  to  go  into  this, 
which,  after  all,  is  partly  masons’  work. 
But  I,  for  my  part,  cannot  understand  the 
spirit  of  an  artist  who  applies  his  art  to  a 
craft  purpose  and  has  not,  at  least,  a strong 
wish  to  know  all  that  pertains  to  it. 


Soldering 


£53 


PART  II 


CHAPTER  XII 

Introductory — The  Great  Questions — Colour — Light 
— Architectural  F itness — Limitations — Thought 
—Imagination — Allegory. 

Intro-  The  foregoing  has  been  written  as  a hand- 
ductory  book  to  use  at  the  bench,  and  therefore  I 
have  tried  to  keep  myself  strictly  to  de- 
scribing the  actual  processes  and  the  ordi- 
nary practice  and  routine  of  stained-glass 
work. 

But  can  we  leave  the  subject  here  ? 

If  we  were  speaking  of  even  the  smallest 
of  the  minor  arts  and  crafts,  we  should 
wish  to  say  something  of  why  they  are 
practised  and  how  they  should  be  practised, 
of  the  principles  that  guide  them,  of  the 
spirit  in  which  they  should  be  undertaken, 
of  the  place  they  occupy  in  human  affairs 
154 


and  in  our  life  on  earth.  How  much  more 
then  in  an  Art  like  this,  which  soars  to  the 
highest  themes,  which  dares  to  treat,  which 
is  required  to  treat,  of  things  Heavenly 
and  Earthly,  of  the  laws  of  God,  and  of 
the  nature,  duty,  and  destinies  of  man ; 
and  not  only  so,  but  must  treat  of  these 
things  in  connection  with,  and  in  subservi- 
ence to,  the  great  and  dominant  Art  of 
Architecture  ? 

We  must  not  shrink,  then,  from  saying 
all  that  is  in  our  mind  : we  must  ask  our- 
selves the  great  questions  of  all  art.  We 
must  investigate  the  How  of  them,  and 
even  face  the  Why. 

Therefore  here  (however  hard  it  be  to 
do  it)  something  must  be  said  of  such  great 
general  principles  as  those  of  colour,  of 
light,  of  architectural  fitness,  of  limita- 
tions, of  thought  and  imagination  and 
allegory ; for  all  these  things  belong  to 
stained-glass  work,  and  it  is  the  right  or 
wrong  use  of  these  high  things  that  makes 
windows  to  be  good  or  to  be  bad. 

Let  us,  dear  student,  take  the  simplest 
things  first,  not  because  they  are  the 
easiest  (though  they  perhaps  are  so),  but 
because  they  will  gradually,  I hope,  warm 
up  our  wits  to  the  point  of  considering 

1 55 


Intro- 

ductory 


Intro- 

ductory 


Of 

Economy 


these  matters,  and  so  prepare  the  way  for 
what  is  hardest  of  all. 

And  I think  a good  subject  to  begin 
with  is  that  of  Economy  generally,  taking 
into  consideration  both  time  and  materials. 


CHAPTER  XIII 

Of  Economy — The  Englishman’s  Wastefulness — Its 
Good  Side — Its  Excess — Difficulties — A Calcu- 
lation— Remedies. 


Those  who  know  work  in  various  countries 
must  surely  have  arrived  at  the  conclusion 
that  the  Englishman  is  the  most  wasteful 
being  on  the  face  of  the  globe  ! He  only 
thinks  of  getting  through  the  work,  or 
whatever  it  may  be,  that  he  has  purposed 
to  himself,  attaining  the  end  immediately 
in  view  in  the  speediest  manner  possible 
without  regard  to  anything  else,  lavish  of 
himself  and  of  the  stuff  he  works  with. 
The  picture  drawn  by  Robert  Louis 
Stevenson  in  “Treasure  Island”  of  John 
Silver  and  his  pirates,  when  about  to  start  on 
their  expedition,  throwing  the  remainder 
of  their  breakfast  on  the  bivouac  fire,  care- 
less whence  fresh  supplies  might  come,  is 

H6 


“ English  all  over.”  This  is  the  character  Of 
of  the  race.  It  has  its  good  side,  this  Economy 
grand  disdain — it  wins  Battles,  Victoria 
Crosses,  Humane  Society’s  medals,  and 
other  things  well  worth  the  winning ; 
brings  into  port  many  a ship  that  would 
else  be  lost  or  abandoned,  and,  year  in,  year 
out,  sends  to  sea  the  lifeboats  on  our  rest- 
less line  of  coast.  It  would  be  something 
precious  indeed  that  would  be  worth  the 
loss  of  it ; but  there  is  a medium  in  all 
things,  and  when  a master  sees — as  one  now 
at  rest  once  told  me  he  often  had  seen — a 
cutter  draw  his  diamond  down  a bit  of  the 
margin  out  of  which  he  had  just  cut  his 
piece,  in  order  to  make  it  small  enough  to 
throw  away,  without  being  ashamed,  under 
the  bench,  he  must  sometimes,  I should 
think,  wish  the  man  were  employed  on 
some  warlike  or  adventurous  trade,  and  that 
he  had  a Hollander  or  Italian  in  his  place, 
who  would  make  a whole  window  out  of 
what  the  other  casts  away. 

At  the  same  time,  it  must  be  confessed 
that  this  is  a very  difficult  matter  to  ar- 
range ; and  it  is  only  fair  to  the  workman 
to  admit  that  under  existing  conditions  of 
work  and  demand,  and  even  in  many  cases 
of  the  buildings  in  which  the  work  is  done, 

T57 


Of  the  way  does  not  seem  clear  to  have  the 
Economy  whole  of  what  might  be  wished  in  this 
matter.  I will  point  out  the  difficulties 
against  it. 

First,  unless  some  system  could  be  in- 
vented by  which  the  amount  of  glass  issued 
to  any  workman  could  be  compared  easily 
and  simply  with  the  area  of  glazed  work 
cut  from  it,  the  workman  has  no  induce- 
ment to  economise ; for,  no  record  being 
kept  of  the  glass  saved,  he  knows  that  he 
will  get  no  credit  by  saving,  while  the 
extra  time  that  he  spends  on  economy 
will  make  him  seem  a slower  workman, 
and  so  he  would  be  blamed. 

Then,  again,  it  is  impossible  to  see  the 
colour  of  glass  as  it  lies  on  the  bench ; he 
has  little  choice  but  to  cut  each  piece  out 
of  the  large  sheet ; for  if  he  got  a clutter 
of  small  bits  round  him  till  he  happened 
to  want  a small  bit,  he  would  never  be 
able  to  get  on. 

There  is  no  use,  observe,  in  niggling 
and  cheese- paring.  There  should  be  a 
just  balance  made  between  the  re- 
spective values  of  the  man’s  time  and 
the  material  on  which  it  is  spent ; and  to 
this  end  I now  give  some  calculations 
to  show  these— -calculations  rather  start- 
158 


ling,  considered  in  the  light  of  what  one 
knows  of  the  ordinary  practices  and 
methods. 

The  antique  glasses  used  in  stained- 
glass  work  vary  in  price  from  is.  a foot 
to  5s.,  the  weight  per  foot  being  about 
32  oz. 

The  wage  of  the  workmen  who  have  to 
deal  with  this  costly  material  varies  from 
8d.  to  is.  per  hour. 

The  price  of  the  same  glass  thrown 
under  the  bench,  and  known  as  “ cullet,” 
is  £1  per  ton. 

Let  us  now  do  a little  simple  arith- 
metic, which,  besides  its  lesson  to  the 
workers,  may,  I think,  come  as  a revela- 
tion even  to  some  employers  who,  content 
with  getting  work  done  quickly,  may 
have  hardly  realised  the  price  paid  for  that 
privilege. 


3 2 oz.  = 2 lb., 

therefore  -r 


J59 


ton  = 20  cwt. 
x _4 
80  qrs. 
x 28 
640 
160 

2)  2240  lbs. 

1120  = number  of  square  feet 
in  a ton. 


Of 

Economy 


Of  The  worth  of  this  at  is.  a foot  (whites) 

Economy  js  . 

-r  20)  I 120(^56  PER  TON. 

IOO 

120 

120 

At  2s.  6d.  per  foot  (the  best  of  pot- 
metal  blues,  and  rubies  generally)  : — 

56 

56 

28 

times  56=  140  <§^140  per  ton. 

At  5s.  a foot  (gold-pink,  and  pale  pink, 
Venetian,  and  choice  glasses  generally)  : — 

56 

x _J. 

^280  PER  TON. 

Therefore  these  glasses  are  worth  re- 
spectively— 56  times,  140  times,  and  280 
times  as  much  upon  the  bench  as  they  are 
when  thrown  below  it ! And  yet  I ask 
you — employer  or  employed — is  it  not  the 
case  that,  often — shall  we  not  say  “gene- 
rally”?— in  any  given  job  as  much  goes 
below  as  remains  above  if  the  work  is  in 
fairly  small  pieces  ? Is  not  the  accom- 
panying diagram  a fair  illustration  (fig. 
63)  of  about  the  average  relation  of  the 
shape  cut  to  its  margin  of  waste  ? 

160 


Employers  estimate  this  waste  variously. 
I have  heard  it  placed  as  high  as  two- 
thirds ; that  is  to  say,  that  the  glass,  when 
leaded  up,  only  measured  one-third  of  the 
material  used,  or,  in  other  words,  that  the 
workman  had  wasted  twice  as  much  as  he 


Fig.  63. 


used.  This,  I admit,  was  told  me  in  my 
character  as  customer , and  by  way  of  ex- 
plaining what  I considered  a high  charge 
for  work ; but  I suppose  that  no  one  with 
experience  of  stained-glass  work  would  be 
l 161 


Of 

Economy 


Of  disposed  to  place  the  amount  of  waste 
Economy  lower  than  one-half. 

Now  a good  cutter  will  take  between 
two  and  three  hours  to  cut  a square  foot 
of  average  stained-glass  work,  fairly  simple 
and  large  in  scale ; that  is  to  say,  suppos- 
ing his  pay  one  shilling  an  hour — which  is 
about  the  top  price — the  material  he  deals 
with  is  about  the  same  value  as  his  time 
if  he  is  using  the  cheapest  glasses  only.  If 
this  then  is  the  case  when  the  highest- 
priced  labour  is  dealing  only  with  the 
lowest-priced  material,  we  may  assume  it 
as  the  general  rule  for  stained-glass  cutting, 
on  the  average , that  “ labour  is  less  costly  than 
the  material  on  which  it  is  spent”  and  I 
would  even  say  much  less  costly. 

But  it  is  not  to  be  supposed  that  the 
little  more  care  in  avoiding  waste  which 
I am  advocating  would  reduce  his  speed 
of  work  more  than  would  be  represented 
by  twopence  or  threepence  an  hour. 

But  I fear  that  all  suggestions  as  to 
mitigating  this  state  of  things  are  of  little 
use.  The  remedy  is  to  play  into  each 
other’s  hands  by  becoming,  all  of  us, 
complete,  all-round  craftsmen ; breaking 
down  all  the  unnatural  and  harmful 
barriers  that  exist  between  “ artists  ” and 
162 


“ workmen,”  and  so  fitting  ourselves  to 
take  an  intelligent  interest  in  both  the 
artistic  and  economic  side  of  our  work. 

The  possibility  of  this  all  depends  on 
the  personal  relations  and  personal  in- 
fluence in  any  particular  shop — and  em- 
ployers and  employed  must  worry  the 
question  out  between  them.  I am  content 
with  pointing  out  the  facts. 

CHAPTER  XIV 

Of  Perfection — In  Little  Things — Cleanliness — 
Alertness — But  not  Hurry — Realising  your  Con- 
ditions— False  Lead-Lines — Shutting  out  Light 
— Bars — Their  Number — Their  Importance — 
Precedence — Observing  your  Limitations — A 
Result  of  Complete  Training — The  Special 
Limitations  of  Stained-Glass — Disguising  the 
Lead -Line  — No  full  Realism  — No  violent 
Action — Self-Effacement — No  Craft- Jugglery — 
Architectural  Fitness  founded  on  Architectural 
Knowledge — Seeing  Work  in  Situ — Sketching 
in  Glass — The  Artistic  Use  of  the  Lead — 
Stepping  Back — Accepting  Bars  and  Leads — 
Loving  Care — White  Spaces  to  be  Interesting — 
Bringing  out  the  “ Quality  ” of  the  Glass — 
Spotting  and  Dappling — u Builders-Glazing  ” 
versus  Modern  Restoring. 

The  second  question  of  principle  that  I 
would  dwell  upon  is  that  of  perfection. 

163 


Of 

Economy 


Of  Per- 
fection 


Of  Per- 
fection 


Every  operation  in  the  arts  should  be 
perfect.  It  has  to  be  so  in  most  arts, 
from  violin-playing  to  circus-riding,  be- 
fore the  artist  dare  make  his  bow  to  the 
public. 

Placing  on  one  side  the  question  of 
the  higher  grades  of  art  which  depend 
upon  special  talent  or  genius — the  great 
qualities  of  imagination,  composition,  form 
and  colour,  which  belong  to  mastership — 
I would  now,  in  this  book,  intended  for 
students,  dwell  upon  those  minor  things, 
the  doing  of  which  well  or  ill  depends 
only  upon  good-will,  patience,  and  in- 
dustry. 

Any  one  can  wash  a brush  clean  ; any 
one  can  keep  the  colour  on  his  palette 
neat ; can  grind  it  all  up  each  time  it  is 
used  ; can  cover  it  over  with  a basin  or 
saucer  when  his  work  is  over ; and  yet 
these  things  are  often  neglected,  though 
so  easy  to  do.  The  painter  will  neglect 
to  wash  out  his  brush ; and  it  will  be 
clogged  with  pigment  and  gum,  get  dry, 
and  stick  to  the  palette,  and  the  points 
of  the  hair  will  tear  and  break  when  it 
is  removed  again  by  the  same  careless 
hand  that  left  it  there. 

Another  will  leave  portions  of  his 

164 


colour,  caked  and  dry,  at  the  edges  of 
his  palette  for  weeks,  till  all  is  stale  ; and 
then,  when  the  spirit  moves  him,  will 
some  day  work  this  in,  full  of  dirt  and 
dust,  with  the  fresher  colour.  Every- 
thing, everything  should  be  done  well ! 
from  the  highest  forms  of  painting  to 
tying  up  a parcel  or  washing  out  a brush  ; 
— all  tools  should  be  clean  at  all  times, 
the  handles  as  well  as  the  hair — there  is 
no  excuse  for  the  reverse  ; and  if  your  tools 
are  dirty,  it  is  by  the  same  defect  of  your 
character  that  will  make  you  slovenly  in 
your  work.  Painting  does  not  demand  the 
same  actual  swiftness  as  some  other  arts ; 
nevertheless  each  touch  that  you  place 
upon  the  glass,  though  it  may  be  de- 
liberate, should  be  deft,  athletic,  perfect 
in  itself ; the  nerves  braced,  the  attention 
keen,  and  the  powers  of  soul  and  body  as 
much  on  the  alert  as  they  would  need  to 
be  in  violin-playing,  fencing,  or  dissecting. 

This  is  not  to  advocate  hurry.  That  is 
another  matter  altogether,  for  which  also 
there  is  no  excuse.  Never  hurry,  or  ask  an 
assistant  to  hurry.  Windows  are  delayed, 
even  promises  broken  (though  that  can 
scarce  be  defended),  there  may  be  “ ire  in 
celestial  minds  ” ; but  that  is  all  forgotten 

i 


Of  Per- 
fection 


Of  Per-  when  we  are  dead ; and  we  soon  shall  be, 
fection  but  not  the  window. 

Another  thing  to  note,  which  applies 
generally  throughout  all  practice,  is  the 
wisdom  of  getting  as  near  as  you  can  to 
your  conditions.  For  instance,  the  bits 
of  glass  in  a window  are  separated  by  lead- 
lines ; pitch-black,  therefore,  against  the 
light  of  day  outside.  Now,  when  waxed 
up  on  the  plate  in  the  shop  for  painting, 
these  will  be  separated  by  thin  cracks  of 
light,  and  in  this  condition  they  are 
usually  painted.  Can’t  you  do  better 
than  that  ? Don’t  you  think  it’s  worth 
while  spending  half-an-hour  to  paint  false 
lead-lines  on  the  back  of  the  plate?  A 
ha’p’orth  of  lamp-black  from  the  oil-shop, 
with  a little  water  and  treacle  and  a long- 
haired brush,  like  a coach-painter’s,  will  do 
it  for  you  (see  Plate  XIII.). 

Another  thing : when  the  window  is 
in  its  place,  each  light  will  be  surrounded 
with  stone  or  brick,  which,  although  not 
so  black  as  the  lead-lines,  will  tell  as  a 
strong  dark  against  the  glass.  See  there- 
fore that  while  you  are  painting,  your 
glass  is  surrounded  by  dark,  or  at  any  rate 
not  by  clear,  glittering  light.  Strips  of 
brown  paper,  pinned  down  the  sides  of  the 
166 


light  you  are  painting,  will  get  the  thing 
quite  near  to  its  future  conditions. 

As  you  have  been  told,  the  work  is 
fixed  in  its  place  by  bars  of  iron,  and  these 
ought  by  no  means  to  be  despised  or 
ignored  or  disguised,  as  if  they  were  a 
troublesome  necessity : you  must  accept 
fully  and  willingly  the  conditions  of  your 
craft ; you  must  pride  yourself  upon  so 
accepting  them,  knowing  that  they  are 
the  wholesome  checks  upon  your  liberty 
and  the  proper  boundaries  of  the  field  in 
which  you  have  your  appointed  work. 
There  should,  in  any  light  more  than  a 
foot  wide,  be  bars  at  every  foot  through- 
out the  length  of  the  light ; and  these 
bars  should  be  \ inch,  J inch,  or  i inch  in 
section,  according  to  the  weight  of  the 
work.  The  question  then  arises  : Should 
the  bars  be  set  out  in  their  places  on  the 
paper,  before  you  begin  to  draw  the 
cartoon,  or  should  you  be  perfectly  free 
and  unfettered  in  the  drawing  and  then 
make  the  bars  fit  in  afterwards,  by  moving 
them  up  and  down  as  may  be  needed  to 
avoid  cutting  across  the  faces,  hands,  &c. 

I find  more  difficulty  in  answering  this 
than  any  other  technical  question  in  this 
book.  I do  not  think  it  can  be  answered 

167 


Of  Per- 
fection 


Of  Per- 
fection 


with  a hard  and  fast  “ Yes  ” or  “ No.”  It 
depends  on  the  circumstances  of  the  case. 
But  I incline  towards  the  side  of  making 
it  the  rule  to  put  the  bars  in  first,  and 
adapt  the  composition  to  them.  You 
may  think  this  a surprising  view  for  an 
artist  to  take.  “ Surely,”  you  will  say, 
“ that  is  putting  the  cart  before  the  horse, 
and  making  the  more  important  thing 
give  way  to  the  less ! ” But  my  feeling 
is  that  reasonable  limitations  of  any  kind 
ought  never  to  be  considered  as  hin- 
drances in  a work  of  art.  They  are  part 
of  the  problem,  and  it  is  only  a spirit 
of  dangerous  license  which  will  consider 
them  as  bonds,  or  will  find  them  irksome, 
or  wish  to  break  them  through.  Stained- 
glass  is  not  an  independent  art.  It  is 
an  accessory  to  architecture,  and  any 
limitations  imposed  by  structure  and 
architectural  propriety  or  necessity  are 
most  gravely  to  be  considered  and  not 
lightly  laid  on  one  side.  And  in  this 
connection  it  must  be  remembered  that 
the  bars  cannot  be  made  to  go  anywhere 
to  fit  a freely  designed  composition  : they 
must  be  approximately  at  certain  dis- 
tances on  account  of  use ; and  they  must 
be  arranged  with  regard  to  each  other  in 
168 


the  whole  of  the  window  on  account  of 
appearance. 

You  might  indeed  find  that,  in  any 
single  light,  it  is  quite  easy  to  arrange 
them  at  proper  and  serviceable  distances, 
without  cutting  across  the  heads  or  hands 
of  the  figures ; but  it  is  ten  chances  to 
one  that  you  can  get  them  to  do  so,  and 
still  be  level  with  each  other,  throughout 
a number  of  lights  side  by  side. 

The  best  plan,  I think,  is  to  set  them 
out  on  the  side  of  the  cartoon-paper  be- 
fore you  begin,  but  not  so  as  to  notice 
them ; then  first  roughly  strike  out  the 
position  your  most  important  groups  or 
figures  are  to  occupy,  and,  before  you  go 
on  with  the  serious  work  of  drawing,  see 
if  the  bars  cut  awkwardly,  and,  if  they 
do,  whether  a slight  shifting  of  them  will 
clear  all  the  important  parts ; it  often 
will,  and  then  all  is  well ; but  I do  not 
shrink  from  slightly  altering  even  the 
position  of  a head  or  hand,  rather  than 
give  a laboured  look  to  what  ought  to  be 
simple  and  straightforward  by  “ coaxing  ” 
the  bars  up  and  down  all  over  the  win- 
dow to  fit  in  with  the  numerous  heads 
and  hands. 

If,  by  the  way,  I see  fit  in  any  case  to 

169 


Of  Per- 
fection 


Of  Per- 
fection 


adopt  the  other  plan,  and  make  my  com- 
position first,  placing  the  bars  afterwards 
to  suit  it,  I never  allow  myself  to  shift 
them  from  the  level  that  is  convenient 
and  reasonable  for  anything  except  a head  ; 
I prefer  even  that  they  should  cut  across 
a hand,  for  instance,  rather  than  that  they 
should  be  placed  at  inconvenient  intervals 
to  avoid  it. 

The  principle  of  observing  your  limita- 
tions is,  I do  not  hesitate  to  say,  the  most 
important,  and  far  the  most  important, 
of  all  principles  guiding  the  worker  in 
the  right  practising  of  any  craft. 

The  next  in  importance  to  it  is  the 
right  exercise  of  all  legitimate  freedom 
within  those  limitations.  I place  them  in 
this  order,  because  it  is  better  to  stop 
short,  by  nine-tenths,  of  right  liberty,  than 
to  take  one-tenth  of  wrong  license.  But 
by  rights  the  two  things  should  go  to- 
gether, and,  with  the  requisite  skill  and 
training  to  use  them,  constitute  indeed 
the  whole  of  the  practice  of  a craft. 

Modern  division  of  labour  is  much 
against  both  of  these  things,  the  observ- 
ance of  which  charms  us  so  in  the  ancient 
Gothic  Art  of  the  Middle  Ages. 

For,  since  those  days,  the  craft  has 
170 


never  been  taught  as  a whole.  Reader  ! 
this  book  cannot  teach  it  you — no  book 
can ; but  it  can  make  you — and  it  was 
written  with  the  sole  object  of  making 
you — wish  to  be  taught  it,  and  determine 
to  be  taught  it,  if  you  intend  to  practise 
stained-glass  work  at  all. 

Modern  stained-glass  work  is  done  by 
numerous  hands,  each  trained  in  a special 
skill — to  design,  or  to  paint,  or  to  cut, 
or  to  glaze,  or  to  fire,  or  to  cement — but 
none  are  taught  to  do  all ; very  few  are 
taught  to  do  more  than  one  or  two.  How, 
then,  can  any  either  use  rightful  liberty 
or  observe  rightful  limitations  ? They 
do  not  know  their  craft,  upon  which 
these  things  depend.  And  observe  how 
completely  also  these  two  things  depend 
upon  each  other.  You  may  be  rightly 
free,  because  you  have  rightly  learnt 
obedience ; you  know  your  limitations, 
and,  therefore , you  may  be  trusted  to 
think,  and  feel,  and  act  for  yourself. 

This  is  what  makes  old  glass,  and  in- 
deed all  old  art,  so  full  of  life,  so  full 
of  interest,  so  full  of  enjoyment  — in 
places,  and  right  places,  so  full  even  of 
“ fun.”  Do  you  think  the  charming 
grotesques  that  fill  up  every  nook  and 

171 


Of  Per- 
fection 


Of  Per-  corner  sometimes  in  the  minor  detail  of 
fection  mediaeval  glass  or  carving  could  ever 
be  done  by  the  method  of  a “superior 
person”  making  a drawing  of  them,  and 
an  inferior  person  laboriously  translating 
them  in  facsimile  into  the  material  ? They 
are  what  they  are  because  they  were  the 
spontaneous  and  allowed  license  and  play 
of  a craftsman  who  knew  his  craft,  and 
could  be  trusted  to  use  it  wisely,  at  any 
rate  in  all  minor  matters. 

THE  LIMITATIONS  OF  STAINED-GLASS. 

The  limitations  of  stained-glass  can 
only  be  learnt  at  the  bench,  and  by  years 
of  patient  practice  and  docile  service  ; but 
it  may  be  well  to  mention  some  of  them. 

You  must  not  disguise  your  lead-line.  You 
must  accept  it  willingly,  as  a limitation  of 
your  craft,  and  make  it  contribute  to  the 
beauty  of  the  whole. 

“ But  I have  a light  to  do  of  the 
c Good  Shepherd,’  and  I want  a land- 
scape and  sky,  and  how  ugly  lead-lines 
look  in  a pale-blue  sky ! I get  them 
like  shapes  of  cloud,  and  still  it  cuts 
the  sky  up  till  it  looks  like  ‘random- 
rubble’  masonry.”  Therefore  large  spaces 
of  pale  sky  are  “taboo,”  they  will  not 
172 


do  for  glass,  and  you  must  modify  your 
whole  outlook,  your  whole  composition, 
to  suit  what  will  do.  If  you  must  have 
sky,  it  must  be  like  a Titian  sky — deep 
blue,  with  well-defined  masses  of  cloud — 
and  you  must  throw  to  the  winds  reso- 
lutely all  idea  of  attempting  to  imitate 
the  softness  of  an  English  sky ; and  even 
then  it  must  not  be  in  a large  mass : you 
can  always  break  it  up  with  branched- 
work  of  trees,  or  with  buildings. 

There  should  he  no  full  realism  of  any 
kind . 

No  violent  action  must  assert  itself  in  a 
window. 

I do  not  say  that  there  must  not,  in 
any  circumstances,  be  any  violent  action — 
the  subject  may  demand  it ; but,  if  so,  it 
must  be  so  disguised  by  the  craftsmanship 
of  the  work,  or  treated  so  decoratively, 
or  so  mixed  up  with  the  background  or 
surroundings,  that  you  do  not  see  a figure 
in  violent  action  starting  prominently  out 
from  the  window  as  you  stand  in  the 
church.  But,  after  all,  this  is  a thing 
of  artistic  sense  and  discretion,  and  no 
rules  can  be  formulated.  The  Parthenon 
frieze  is  of  figures  in  rapid  movement. 
Yet  what  repose!  And  in  stained-glass 

173 


Of  Per- 
fection 


Of  Per- 
fection 


you  must  aim  at  repose.  Remember, — it 

is  an  accessory  to  architecture ; and  who 
is  there  that  does  not  want  repose  in 
architecture  ? Name  me  a great  building 
which  does  not  possess  it  ? How  the 
architects  must  turn  in  their  graves,  or, 
if  living,  shake  in  their  shoes,  when  they 
see  the  stained-glass  man  turned  into 
their  buildings,  to  display  himself  and 
spread  himself  abroad  and  blow  his 
trumpet ! 

Efface  yourself,  my  friend ; sink  your- 
self ; illustrate  the  building  ; consider  its 
lines  and  lights  and  shades  ; enrich  it,  com- 
plete it,  make  people  happier  to  be  in  it. 

There  must  he  no  craft-jugglery  in  stained- 
glass. 

The  art  must  set  the  craft  simple  prob- 
lems ; it  must  not  set  tasks  that  can  only 
be  accomplished  by  trickery  or  by  great 
effort,  disproportioned  to  the  importance 
of  the  result.  But,  indeed,  you  will 
naturally  get  the  habit  of  working  ac- 
cording to  this  rule,  and  other  reasonable 
rules,  if  you  yourself  work  at  the  bench — 
all  lies  in  that. 

There  must  he  nothing  out  of  harmony  with 
the  architecture . 

And,  therefore,  you  must  know  some- 
174 


thing  of  architecture,  not  in  order  to 
imitate  the  work  of  the  past  and  try  to 
get  your  own  mistaken  for  it,  but  to  learn 
the  love  and  reverence  and  joy  of  heart  of 
the  old  builders,  so  that  your  spirit  may 
harmonise  with  theirs. 

Do  not  shrink  from  the  trouble  and  expense 
of  seeing  the  work  in  situ,  and  then , if  neces- 
sary , removing  it  for  correction  and  amend- 
ment. 

If  you  have  a large  window,  or  a 
series  of  windows,  to  do,  it  is  often  not 
a very  great  matter  to  take  a portion 
of  one  light  at  least  down  and  try  it 
in  its  place.  I have  done  it  very  often, 
and  I can  assure  you  it  is  well  worth 
while. 

OF  MAKING  A SKETCH  IN  GLASS. 

But  there  is  another  thing  that  may 
help  you  in  this  matter,  and  that  is  to 
sketch  out  the  colour  of  your  window  in 
small  pieces  of  glass — in  fact,  to  make  a 
scale-sketch  of  it  in  glass.  A scale  of 
one  inch  to  a foot  will  do  generally, 
but  all  difficult  or  doubtful  combina- 
tions of  colour  should  be  sketched  larger 
— full  size  even  — before  you  venture 
to  cut. 

175 


Of  Per- 
fection 


Of  Per- 
fection 


Work  should  he  kept  flat  by  leading. 

One  of  the  main  artistic  uses  of  the 
leadwork  in  a window  is  that,  if  properly 
used,  it  keeps  the  work  flat  and  in  one 
plane,  and  allows  far  more  freedom  in  the 
conduct  of  your  picture,  permitting  you 
to  use  a degree  of  realism  and  fulness  of 
treatment  greater  than  you  could  do  with- 
out it.  Work  may  be  done,  where  this 
limitation  is  properly  accepted  and  used, 
which  would  look  vulgar  without  it ; and 
on  the  other  hand,  the  most  Byzantine 
rigidity  may  be  made  to  look  vulgar  if 
the  lead-line  is  misused.  I have  seen 
glass  of  this  kind  where  the  work  was  all 
on  one  plane,  and  where  the  artist  had  so 
far  grasped  proper  principles  as  to  use 
thick  leads,  but  had  curved  these  leads  in 
and  out  across  the  folds  of  the  drapery  as  if 
they  followed  its  ridges  and  hollows — the 
thing  becoming,  with  all  its  good-will  to 
accept  limitations,  almost  more  vulgar 
than  the  discredited  “ Munich-glass  ” of 
a few  years  ago,  which  hated  and  dis- 
guised the  lead-lines. 

You  must  step  hack  to  look  at  your  work  as 
often  and  as  far  as  you  can. 

Respect  your  bars  and  lead-lines , and  let 
them  he  strong  and  many . 

176 


Every  bit  of  glass  in  a window  should  look 
“ cared  for." 

If  there  is  a lot  of  blank  space  that  you 
“ don’t  know  how  to  fill,”  be  sure  your 
design  has  been  too  narrowly  and  frugally 
conceived.  I do  not  mean  to  say  that  there 
may  not  be  spaces,  and  even  large  spaces, 
of  plain  quarry-glazing,  upon  which  your 
subject  with  its  surrounding  ornament  may 
be  planted  down,  as  a rich  thing  upon  a 
plain  thing.  I am  thinking  rather  of  a case 
where  you  meet  with  some  sudden  lapse 
or  gap  in  the  subject  itself  or  in  its  orna- 
mental surroundings.  This  is  apt  specially 
to  occur  where  it  is  one  which  leads  rather 
to  pictorial  treatment,  and  where,  unless 
you  have  “canopy”  or  “tabernacle”  work, 
as  it  is  called,  surrounding  and  framing 
everything,  you  find  yourself  at  a loss  how 
to  fill  the  space  above  or  below. 

Very  little  can  be  said  by  way  of  general 
rule  about  this ; each  case  must  be  decided 
on  its  merits,  and  we  cannot  speak  without 
knowing  them.  But  two  things  may  be 
said  : First,  that  it  is  well  to  be  perfectly 
bold  (as  long  as  you  are  perfectly  sincere), 
and  not  be  afraid,  merely  because  they  are 
unusual,  of  things  that  you  really  would 
like  to  do  if  the  window  were  for  yourself. 

M 177 


Of  Per- 
fection 


Of  Per- 
fection 


There  are  no  hard  and  fast  rules  as  to 
what  may  or  may  not  be  done,  and  if  you 
are  a craftsman  and  designer  also — as  the 
whole  purpose  of  this  book  is  to  tell  you 
you  must  be — many  methods  will  suggest 
themselves  of  making  your  glass  look  inte- 
resting. The  golden  rule  is  to  handle  every 
bit  of  it  yourself,  and  then  you  will  be 
interested  in  the  ingenuity  of  its  arrange- 
ment ; the  cutting  of  it  into  little  and  big 
bits;  the  lacework  of  the  leads;  thickening 
and  thinning  these  also  to  get  bold  con- 
trasts of  strong  and  slender,  of  plain  and 
intricate ; catching  your  pearly  glass  like 
fish,  in  a net  of  larger  or  smaller  mesh ; 
for,  bear  in  mind  always  that  this  question 
relates  almost  entirely  to  the  whiter  glasses. 
Colour  has  its  own  reason  for  being  there, 
and  carries  its  own  interest ; but  the  most 
valuable  piece  of  advice  that  I can  think  of 
in  regard  to  stained-glass  treatment  (apart 
from  the  question  of  subject  and  meaning) 
is  to  make  your  white  spaces  interesting. 

The  old  painters  felt  this  when  they 
diapered  their  quarry-glazing  and  did 
such  grisaille  work  as  the  “Five  Sisters’’ 
window  at  York.  Every  bit  of  this  last 
must  have  been  put  together  and  painted 
by  a real  craftsman  delighting  in  his  work. 

i?8 


The  drawing  is  free  and  beautiful  ; the 
whole  work  is  like  jewellery,  the  colour 
scheme  delightfully  varied  and  irregular. 
The  work  was  loved  : each  bit  of  glass 
was  treated  on  its  merits  as  it  passed 
through  hand.  Working  in  this  way  all 
things  are  lawful ; you  may  even  put  a 
thin  film  of  “ matt  ” over  any  piece  to 
lower  it  in  tone  and  give  it  richness,  or 
to  bring  out  with  emphasis  some  quality 
of  its  texture.  Some  bits  will  have  lovely 
streaks  and  swirling  lines  and  bands  in 
them — “reamy,”  as  glass-cutters  call  it — 
or  groups  of  bubbles  and  spots,  making 
the  glass  like  agate  or  pebble;  and  a gentle 
hand  will  rub  a little  matt  or  film  over 
these,  and  then  finger  it  partly  away  to 
bring  out  its  quality,  just  as  a jeweller 
foils  a stone.  This  is  quite  a different 
thing  from  smearing  a window  all  over 
with  dirt  to  make  it  a sham-antique  ; and 
where  it  is  desirable  to  lower  the  tone  of 
any  white  for  the  sake  of  the  window,  and 
where  no  special  beauties  of  texture  exist, 
it  is  better,  I think,  to  matt  it  and  then 
take  out  simple  patterns  from  the  matt : not 
outlined  at  all,  but  spotted  and  streaked 
in  the  matt  itself,  chequered  and  petalled 
and  thumb-marked,  just  as  nature  spots 

179 


Of  Per- 
fection 


Of  Per- 
fection 


and  stripes  and  dapples,  scatters  daisies  on 
the  grass  and  snowflakes  in  the  air,  and 
powders  over  with  chessboard  chequers 
and  lacings  and  “ oes  and  eyes  of  light,” 
the  wings  of  butterflies  and  birds. 

So  man  has  always  loved  to  work  when 
he  has  been  let  to  choose,  and  when  nature 
has  had  her  way.  Such  is  the  delightful 
art  of  the  basket  and  grass-cloth  weaver  of 
the  Southern  seas  ; of  the  ancient  Cyprian 
potter,  the  Scandinavian  and  the  Celt.  It 
never  dies ; and  in  some  quiet,  merciful 
time  of  academical  neglect  it  crops  up 
again.  Such  is  the,  often  delightful, 
“ builders-glazing  ” of  the  “ carpenters- 
Gothic  ” period,  or  earlier,  when  the  south 
transept  window  at  Canterbury,  and  the 
east  and  west  windows  at  Cirencester,  and 
many  such  like,  were  rearranged  with  old 
materials  and  new  by  rule  of  thumb  and 
just  as  the  glazier  “ thought  he  would.” 
Heaven  send  us  nothing  worse  done 
through  too  much  learning ! I daresay 
he  shouldn’t  have  done  it ; but  as  it  came 
to  him  to  do,  as,  probably,  he  was  ordered 
to  do  it,  we  may  be  glad  he  did  it  just  so. 
In  the  Canterbury  window,  for  instance, 
no  doubt  much  of  the  old  glass  never 
belonged  to  that  particular  window ; it 
180 


may  have  been,  sinfully,  brought  there 
from  windows  where  it  did  belong.  At 
Cirencester  there  are  numbers  of  bits  of 
canopy  and  so  forth,  delightful  fifteenth- 
century  work,  exquisitely  beautiful,  put 
in  as  best  they  could  be ; no  doubt  from 
some  mutilated  window  where  the  figures 
had  been  destroyed — for,  if  my  memory 
serves  me,  most  of  them  have  no  figures 
beneath  — and  surrounded  by  little 
chequered  work,  and  stripes  and  banding 
of  the  glaziers’  own  fancy.  A modern 
restorer  would  have  delighted  to  supply 
sham-antique  saints  for  them,  imitating 
fifteenth  - century  work  (and  deceiving 
nobody),  and  to  complete  the  mutilated 
canopies  by  careful  matching,  making 
the  window  entirely  correct  and  unin- 
teresting and  lifeless  and  accomplished 
and  forbidding.  The  very  blue-bottles 
would  be  afraid  to  buzz  against  it  ; 
whereas  here,  in  the  old  church,  with  the 
flavour  of  sincerity  and  simplicity  around 
them,  at  one  with  the  old  carving  and  the 
spirit  of  the  old  time,  they  glitter  with 
fresh  feeling,  and  hang  there,  new  and 
old  together,  breaking  sunlight  ; irre- 
sponsible, absurd,  and  delightful. 

181 


Of  Per- 
fection 


CHAPTER  XV 


A Few 
Little 
Dodges 


A Few  Little  Dodges — A Clumsy  Tool — A Sub- 
stitute— A Glass  Rack — An  Inconvenient  Easel 
— A Convenient  Easel — A Waxing-up  Tool — 
An  Easel  with  Movable  Plates — Making  the 
most  of  a Room — Handling  Cartoons — Cleanli- 
ness — Dust  — The  Selvage  Edge  — Drying  a 
“ Badger  ” — A Comment. 

Here,  now,  follow  some  little  practical 
hints  upon  work  in  general ; mere  receipts; 
description  of  time-saving  methods  and 
apparatus  which  I have  separated  from 
the  former  part  of  the  book ; partly 
because  they  are  mostly  exceptions  to 
the  ordinary  practice,  and  partly  be- 
cause they  are  of  general  application,  the 
common-sense  of  procedure,  and  will,  I 
hope,  after  you  have  learnt  from  the 
former  parts  of  the  book  the  individual 
processes  and  operations,  help  you  to 
marshal  these,  in  order  and  proportion, 
so  as  to  use  them  to  the  greatest  advan- 
tage and  with  the  best  results.  And  truly 
our  stained-glass  methods  are  most  waste- 
ful and  bungling.  The  ancient  Egyptians, 
they  say,  made  glass,  and  I am  sure  some 
1 82 


of  our  present  tools  and  apparatus  date 
from  the  time  of  the  Pyramids. 


A CLUMSY  KILN-FEEDER. 

What  shall  we  say,  for 
instance,  of  this  instru- 
ment (fig.  64),  used  for 
loading  some  forms  of 
kiln  ? 

The  workman  takes 
the  ring-handle  in  his 
right  hand,  rests  the 
shaft  in  the  crook  of  his 
left  elbow,  puts  the  fork 
under  an  iron  plate  loaded 
with  glass  and  weighing 
about  forty  pounds,  and 
then,  with  tug  and  strain, 
lifts  it,  ready  to  slip  off 
and  smash  at  any  moment, 
and,  grunting,  transfers 
it  to  the  kiln.  A little 
mechanical  appliance 
would  save  nine -tenths 
of  the  labour,  a stage  on 
wheels  raised  or  lowered 
at  will  (a  thing  which 
not  be  hard  to  invent)  would  bring  it 
from  the  bench  to  the  kiln,  and  then , if 

183 


Fig.  64. 

surely  should 


A Few 
Little 
Dodges 


A Few  needs  be,  and  no  better  method  could  be 

Little  found,  the  fork  might  be  used  to  put  it 
Dodges  • ° r 

6 in. 

Meanwhile,  as  a temporary  step  in  the 
right  direction,  I illustrate  a little  apparatus 
invented  by  Mr.  Heaton,  which,  with  the 
tray  made  of  some  lighter  substance  than 
iron,  of  which  he  has  the  secret,  decreases 
the  labour  by  certainly  one-third,  and  I 


Fig.  65. 


think  a half  (fig.  65).  It  is  indeed  only  a 
sort  of  half-way  house  to  the  right  thing, 
but,  tested  one  against  the  other  with 
equal  batches  of  plates,  its  use  is  certainly 
less  laborious  than  that  of  the  fork. 
And  that  is  a great  gain ; for  the  con- 
sequence of  these  rough  ways  is  that  the 
kiln-man,  whom  we  want  to  be  a quiet, 
observant  man,  with  plenty  of  leisure  and 
184 


with  all  his  strength  and  attention  free  to 
watch  the  progress  of  a process  or  experi- 
ment, like  a chemist  in  his  laboratory, 


has  often  two-thirds  of  it  distracted  by 
the  stress  of  needless  work  which  is  only 
fit  for  a navvy,  and  the  only  tendency  of 
which  can  be  towards  turning  him  into  one. 

185 


A Few 
Little 
Dodges 


A Few 
Little 
Dodges 


A GLASS-RACK  FOR  WASTE  PIECES. 

Then  the  cutter,  who  throws  away  half 
the  stuff  under  his  bench ! How  easy  it 
would  be,  if  things  were  thought  of  from 
the  beginning  and  the  place  built  for  the 
work,  to  have  such  width  of  bench  and 
space  of  window  that,  along  the  latter, 
easily  and  comfortably  within  reach, 
should  run  stages,  tier  above  tier,  of 
strong  sheet  or  thin  plate  glass,  sloping 
at  such  an  angle  that  the  cuttings  might  lie 
along  them  against  the  light,  with  a fillet 
to  stop  them  from  falling  off.  Then  it 
would  be  a pleasure,  as  all  handy  things 
are,  for  the  workman  to  put  his  bits  of 
glass  there,  and  when  he  wanted  a piece  of 
similar  colour,  to  raise  his  head  and  choose 
one,  instead  of  wastefully  cutting  a fresh 
piece  out  of  the  unbroken  sheet,  or  wasting 
his  time  rummaging  amongst  the  bits  on 
the  bench.  A stage  on  the  same  principle 
for  choosing  glass  is  illustrated  in  fig.  67. 

But  it  is  in  easels  that  improvement 
seems  most  wanted  and  would  be  most 
easy,  and  here  I really  must  tell  you  a 
story. 

AN  INCONVENIENT  EASEL. 


Having  once  some  very  large  lights  to 
paint,  against  time,  the  friends  in  whose 
186 


shop  I was  to  work 
(wishing  to  give  me 
every  advantage  and  to 
save  time , had  had 
special  easels  made  to 
take  in  the  main  part 
of  each  light  at  once. 
But  an  “ Easel,”  in 
stained  - glass  work, 
meaning  always  the 
single  slab  of  plate- 
glass  in  a wooden  frame, 
these  were  of  that  type. 
I forget  their  exact  size 
and  could  hazard  no 
guess  at  their  weight, 
but  it  took  four  men  to 
get  one  from  the  ground 
on  to  the  bench.  Why, 
I wanted  it  done  a dozen 
times  an  hour ! and 
should  have  wished  to 
be  able  to  do  it  at  any 
moment.  Instead  of  that 
it  was,  “Now  then, 
Bill ; ease  her  over  ! ” 
“ Steady  ! ” “ Now 

lift ! ” “ All  together, 

boys  ! ” and  so  forth.  I 
wonder  there  wasn’t  a 


A Few 
LittleH 
Dodges 


- 


A Few 
Little 
Dodges 


strike  ! But  did  no  one,  then,  ever  see  in 
a club  or  hotel  a plate-glass  window  about 
as  big  as  a billiard-table,  and  a slim  waiter 
come  up  to  it,  and,  with  a polite  “Would 
you  like  the  window  open,  sir  ? ” quietly 
lift  it  with  one  hand  ? 

A CONVENIENT  EASEL. 

Fig.  68  is  a diagram  of  the  kind  of  easel 
I would  suggest.  It  can  either  stand  on  the 
bench  or  on  the  floor,  and  with  the  touch 
of  a hand  can  be  lifted,  weighing  often 
well  over  a hundredweight,  to  any  height 
the  painter  pleases,  till  it  touches  the  roof, 
enabling  him  to  see  at  any  moment  the 
whole  of  his  work  at  a distance  and  against 
the  sky,  which  one  would  rather  call  an 
absolute  necessity  than  a mere  convenience 
or  advantage. 

Some  of  these  things  were  thought  out 
roughly  by  myself,  and  have  been  added 
to  and  improved  from  time  to  time  by  my 
painters  and  apprentices,  a matter  which 
I shall  say  a word  on  by-and-by,  when  we 
consider  the  relations  which  should  exist 
between  these  and  the  master. 

AN  IMPROVED  TOOL  FOR  WAXING-UP. 

Meanwhile  here  is  another  little  tool 
(fig.  69),  the  invention  of  one  of  my 
188 


A Few 
Little 
Dodges 


I 89 


Fig.  68. 


A Few 
Little 
Dodges 


youngest  “ hands  ” (and  heads),  and 

really  a praise- 
worthy inven- 
tion, though 
indeed  a simple 
and  self-evident 
matter  enough. 
The  usual  tool 
for  waxing  - up 
is  ( i ) a strip 
of  glass,  (2)  a 
penknife,  (3)  a 
stick  of  wood. 
The  thing  most 
to  be  wished  for 
in  whatever  is 
used  being,  of 
course,  that  it 
should  retain  the 
heat.  This  youth 
argued:  “If they 
use  copper  for 
soldering-bits 
» because  it  retains 
heat  so  well,  why 
not  use  copper 
for  the  waxing- 
up  tool  ? besides,  it  can  be  made  into  a pen 
which  will  hold  more  wax.” 

190 


Fig.  69. 


So  said,  so  done ; nothing  indeed  to 
make  a fuss  about,  but  part  of  a very 
wholesome  spirit  of  wishing  to  work 
with  handy  tools  economically,  instead  of 
blundering  and  wasting. 

AN  EASEL  WITH  MOVABLE  PLATES. 

But  to  return  for  a moment  to  the 
easel.  I find  it  very  convenient  not  to 
have  it  made  all  of  one  plate  of  glass, 
but  to  divide  it  so  that  about  four  plates 
make  the  wThole  easel  of  five  feet  high. 
These  plates  slip  in  grooves,  and  can  be 
let  in  either  at  the  top  or  bottom,  the 
latter  being  then  stopped  by  a batten  and 
thumbscrews.  By  this  means  a light  of 
any  length  can  be  painted  in  sections 
without  a break.  For  supposing  you 
work  from  below  upwards,  and  have  done 
the  first  five  feet  of  the  window,  take  out 
all  the  glass  except  the  top  plate,  shift  this 
down  to  the  bottom , and  place  three  empty 
plates  above  it,  and  you  can  join  the 
upper  work  to  the  lower  by  the  sample 
of  the  latter  left  in  its  place  to  start  you. 

HOW  TO  MAKE  THE  MOST  OF  A ROOM. 

The  great  point  is  to  be  able  to  get  away 
as  far  as  you  can  from  your  work.  And  I 


A Few 
Little 
Dodges 


A Few 
Little 
Dodges 


advise  you,  if  your  room  is  small,  to  have 
a fair-sized  mirror  (a  cheval-glass)  and 
place  it  at  the  far  end  of  your  room 
opposite  the  easel  where  you  are  painting, 
and  then,  standing  close  by  the  side  of 
your  easel,  look  at  your  work  in  the 
mirror.  This  will  double  the  distance  at 
which  you  see  it,  and  at  the  same  time 
present  it  to  you  reversed ; which  is  no 
disadvantage,  for  you  then  see  everything 
under  a fresh  aspect  and  so  with  a fresh 
eye.  Of  course,  by  the  use  of  two  mir- 
rors, if  they  be  large  enough,  you  can  put 
your  work  away  to  any  distance.  You 
must  have  seen  this  in  a restaurant  where 
there  were  mirrors,  and  where  you  have 
had  presented  to  you  an  endless  procession 
of  your  own  head,  first  front  then  back, 
going  away  into  the  far  distance. 


HOW  TO  HANDLE  CARTOONS. 

Well,  it’s  really  like  insulting  your  in- 
telligence ! And  if  I hadn’t  seen  fellows 
down  on  their  hands  and  knees  rolling 
and  unrolling  cartoons  along  the  dirty 
floor,  and  sprawling  all  over  the  studio  so 
that  everybody  had  to  get  out  of  the  way 
into  corners,  I wouldn’t  spend  paper  and 
ink  to  tell  you  that  by  standing  the  roll 
192 


upright  and  spinning  it  gently  round  with 
your  hands,  freeing  first  one  edge  and 
then  another,  you  can  easily  and  quietly 
unroll  and  sort  out  a bundle  of  a dozen 
cartoons,  each  twenty  feet  long,  on  the 
space  of  a small  hearth-rug ; but  so  it  is 
(fig.  70),  and  in  just  the  same  way  you 
can  roll  them  up  again, 

NEATNESS  AND  CLEANLINESS. 

You  should  have  drawers  in  the  tables, 
and  put  the  palettes  away  in  these  with 
the  colour  neatly  covered  over  with  a basin 
when  you  leave  work.  Dust  is  a great 
enemy  in  a stained-glass  shop,  and  it 
must  be  kept  at  arm’s  length. 

YOU  MUST  TEAR  OFF  THE  SELVAGE  EDGE 
OF  YOUR  TRACING  CLOTH, 

otherwise  the  tracing  cloth  being  all  cockled 
at  the  edge,  which,  however,  is  not  very 
noticeable,  will  not  lie  flat,  and  you  will  be 
puzzled  to  know  why  it  is  that  you  cannot 
get  your  cut-line  straight;  tear  off  the  edge, 
and  it  lies  perfectly  flat,  without  a wrinkle. 

HOW  TO  DRY  A BIG  BRUSH  OR  BADGER 
AFTER  IT  IS  WASHED. 

I expect  you’d  try  to  dry  it  in  front  of 
the  fire,  and  there’d  be  a pretty  eight- 
N 193 


A Few 
Little 
Dodges 


Fig.  70. 


J94 


shilling  frizzle ! But  the  way  is  this  : First 
sweep  the  wet  brush  downwards  with  all 
your  force,  just  as  you  shake  the  worst 
of  the  wet  off  a dripping  umbrella,  then 
take  the  handle  of  the  brush  between  the 
palms  of  your  hands , with  the  hair  pointing 
downwards,  and  rub  your  hands  smartly 
together,  with  the  handle  between  them, 
just  as  an  Italian  waiter  whisks  up  the 
chocolate.  This  sends  the  hair  all  out  like 
a Catherine-wheel,  and  dries  the  brush  with 
quite  astonishing  rapidity.  Come  now! 
you’d  never  have  thought  of  that  ? 

And  why  have  I reserved  these  hints 
till  now  ? surely  these  are  things  of  the 
work-bench,  practical  matters,  and  would 
have  come  more  conveniently  in  their 
own  place  ? Why  have  I— do  you  ask — 
after  arousing  your  attention  to  the 
“ great  principles  of  art,”  gone  back 
again  all  at  once  to  these  little  matters  ? 

Dear  reader,  I have  done  so  deliberately 
to  emphasise  the  First  of  principles,  that 
the  right  learning  of  any  craft  is  the 
learning  it  under  a master,  and  that  all 
else  is  makeshift ; to  drive  home  the 
lesson  insisted  on  in  the  former  volumes 
of  this  series  of  handbooks,  and  gathered 

r95 


A Few 
Little 
Dodges 


A Few 
Little 
Dodges 


into  the  sentence  quoted  as  a motto  on 
the  fly-leaf  of  one  of  them,  that  “ An 
art  can  only  be  learned  in  the  workshop 
of  those  who  are  winning  their  bread 
by  it.” 

These  little  things  we  have  just  been 
speaking  of  occurred  to  me  after  the 
practical  part  was  all  written ; and  I de- 
termined, since  it  happened  so,  to  put 
them  by  themselves,  to  point  this  very 
lesson.  They  are  just  typical  instances  of 
hundreds  of  little  matters  which  belong 
to  the  bench  and  the  workshop,  and 
which  cannot  all  be  told  in  any  book ; 
and  even  if  told  can  never  be  so  fully 
grasped  as  they  would  be  if  shown  by 
master  to  pupil.  Years  — centuries  of 
practice  have  made  them  the  common- 
places of  the  shops ; things  told  in  a 
word  and  learnt  in  an  instant,  yet  which 
one  might  go  on  for  a whole  lifetime 
without  thinking  of,  and  for  lack  of 
which  our  lifetime’s  work  would  suffer. 

Man’s  work  upon  earth  is  all  like  that. 
The  things  are  there  under  his  very  nose, 
but  he  never  discovers  them  till  some  acci- 
dent shows  them ; how  many  centuries  of 
sailing,  think  you,  passed  by  before  men 
knew  that  the  tides  went  with  the  moon  ? 

196 


Why  then  write  a book  at  all,  since 
it  is  not  the  best  way  ? 

Speaking  for  myself  only,  the  reasons 
appear  to  be  : First,  because  none  of  these 
crafts  is  at  present  taught  in  its  ful- 
ness in  any  ordinary  shop,  and  I would 
wish  to  give  you  at  least  a longing  to 
learn  yours  in  that  fulness ; and,  second, 
because  it  seems  also  very  advisable  to 
interest  the  general  reader  in  this  ques- 
tion of  the  complete  teaching  of  the  crafts 
to  apprentices.  To  insist  on  the  value 
and  necessity  of  the  daily  and  hourly 
lessons  that  come  from  the  constant 
presence,  handling,  and  use  of  all  the 
tools  and  materials,  all  the  apparatus  and 
all  the  conditions  of  the  craft,  and  from 
the  interchange  of  ideas  amongst  those 
who  are  working,  side  by  side,  making 
fresh  discoveries  day  by  day  as  to  what 
materials  will  do  under  the  changes 
that  occur  in  conditions  that  are  ever 
changing. 

However,  one  must  not  linger  further 
over  these  little  matters,  and  it  now  be- 
comes my  task  to  return  to  the  great  lead- 
ing principles  and  try  to  deal  with  them, 
and  the  first  cardinal  principle  of  stained- 
glass  work  surely  is  that  of  Colour. 

197 


A Few 
Little 
Dodges 


CHAPTER  XVI 


Of  Colour 


OF  COLOUR 

But  how  hopeless  to  deal  with  it  by  way 
of  words  in  a book  where  actual  colour 
cannot  be  shown ! 

Nevertheless,  let  us  try. 

###### 

. . . One  thinks  of  morning  and  evening; 
...  of  clouds  passing  over  the  sun ; of 
the  dappled  glow  and  glitter,  and  of  faint 
flushes  cast  from  the  windows  on  the 
cathedral  pavement ; of  pearly  white,  like 
the  lining  of  a shell ; of  purple  bloom 
and  azure  haze,  and  grass  - green  and 
golden  spots,  like  the  budding  of  the 
spring  ; of  all  the  gaiety,  the  sparkle,  and 
the  charm. 

And  then,  as  if  the  evening  were  draw- 
ing on,  comes  over  the  memory  the  picture 
of  those  graver  harmonies,  in  the  full  glow 
of  red  and  blue,  which  go  with  the  deep 
notes  of  the  great  organ,  playing  requiem 
or  evening  hymn. 

Of  what  use  is  it  to  speak  of  these 


things  ? The  words  fall  upon  the  ear,  Of  Colour 
but  the  eye  is  not  filled. 

All  stained-glass  gathers  itself  up  into 
this  one  subject ; the  glory  of  the  heavens 
is  in  it  and  the  fulness  of  the  earth,  and  we 
know  that  the  showing  forth  of  it  cannot 
be  in  words. 

Is  it  any  use,  for  instance,  to  speak  of 
these  primroses  along  the  railway  bank, 
and  those  silver  buds  of  the  alder  in  the 
hollow  of  the  copse  ? 

One  thinks  of  a hint  here  and  a hint 
there;  the  very  sentences  come  in  frag- 
ments. Yet  one  thing  we  may  say  securely: 
that  the  practice  of  stained-glass  is  a very 
good  way  to  learn  colour,  or  as  much  of 
it  as  can  come  by  learning. 

For,  consider : — 

A painter  has  his  colour-box  and  pal- 
ette ; 

And  if  he  has  a good  master  he  may 
learn  by  degrees  how  to  mix  his  colour 
into  harmonies ; 

Doing  a little  first,  cautiously  ; 

Trying  the  problem  in  one  or  two  simple 
tints  ; learning  the  combinations  of  these 
in  their  various  degrees  of  lighter  or 
darker  : 

Exhausting,  as  much  as  he  can,  the 

1 99 


Of  Colour 


possibilities  of  one  or  two  pigments,  and 
then  adding  another  and  another ; 

But  always  with  a very  limited  number 
of  actual  separate  ones  to  draw  upon ; 

All  the  infinity  of  the  whole  world  of 
colour  being  in  his  own  hands,  and  the 
difficulty  of  dealing  with  it  laid  as  a 
burden  upon  his  own  shoulders,  as  he 
combines,  modifies,  mixes,  and  dilutes 
them. 

He  perhaps  has  eight  or  ten  spots  of 
pure  colour,  ranged  round  his  palette ; and 
all  the  rest  depends  upon  himself. 

This  gives  him,  indeed,  one  side  of  the 
practice  of  his  art ; and  if  he  walks  warily, 
yet  daringly,  step  by  step,  learning  day  by 
day  something  more  of  the  powers  that  lie 
in  each  single  kind  of  paint,  and  as  he 
learns  it  applying  his  knowledge,  bravely 
and  industriously,  to  add  strength  to 
strength,  brightness  to  brightness,  rich- 
ness to  richness,  depth  to  depth,  in  ever 
clearer,  fuller,  and  more  gorgeous  har- 
mony, he  may  indeed  become  a great 
painter. 

But  a more  timid  or  indolent  man  gets 
tired  or  afraid  of  putting  the  clear,  sharp 
tints  side  by  side  to  make  new  combina- 
tions of  pure  and  vivid  colour. 

200 


And  even  a man  industrious,  alert,  Of  Colour 
and  determined  may  lose  his  way  and 
get  confused  amongst  the  infinity  of 
choice,  through  being  badly  taught,  and 
especially  through  being  allowed  at  first 
too  great  a range,  too  wide  a choice,  too 
lavish  riches. 

A man  so  trained,  so  situated,  so 
tempted,  stands  in  danger  of  being  con- 
tented to  repeat  old  receipts  and  formulas 
over  and  over,  as  soon  as  he  has  acquired 
the  knowledge  of  a few. 

Or,  bewildered  with  the  lavishness  of 
his  means  and  confused  in  his  choice, 
tends  to  fall  into  indecision,  and  to  smear 
and  dilute  and  weaken. 

I cannot  help  thinking  that  it  is  to  this 
want  of  a system  of  gradual  teaching  of 
the  elementary  stages  of  colour  in  painting 
that  we  owe,  on  the  one  side,  the  fashion 
of  calling  irresolute  and  undecided  tints 
“ art  ” colours  ; and,  on  the  other  hand, 
the  garishness  of  our  modern  exhibitions 
compared  with  galleries  of  old  paintings. 

For  Titian’s  burning  scarlet  and  crimson 
and  palpitating  blue ; and  Veronese’s 
gold  and  green  and  white  and  rose  are 
certainly  not  44  art  colours  ” ; and  I 
think  we  must  feel  the  justice  and  truth 

201 


Of  Colour  of  Ruskin’s  words  spoken  regarding  a 
picture  of  Linnell’s  : — 

“ And  what  a relief  it  is  for  any  whole- 
some human  sight,  after  sickening  itself 
among  the  blank  horror  of  dirt,  ditch- 
water,  and  malaria,  which  the  imitators 
of  the  French  schools  have  begrimed  our 
various  Exhibition  walls  with,  to  find  once 
more  a bit  of  blue  in  the  sky  and  a glow 
of  brown  in  the  coppice,  and  to  see 
that  Hoppers  in  Kent  can  enjoy  their 
scarlet  and  purple — like  Empresses  and 
Emperors.”  (Ruskin,  “ Royal  Academy 
Notes,”  1875.) 

From  this  irresolution  and  indecision 
and  the  dull-colour  school  begotten  of  it 
on  the  one  hand,  and  from  garishness  on 
the  other,  stained-glass  is  a great  means 
of  salvation ; for  in  practising  this  art  the 
absolute  judgment  must,  day  by  day,  be 
exercised  between  this  and  that  colour, 
there  present  before  it ; and  the  will  is 
braced  by  the  necessity  of  constant  choice 
and  decision.  In  short,  by  many  of  the 
modern,  academical  methods  of  teaching 
painting,  and  especially  by  the  unfortunate 
arrangement,  where  it  exists,  of  a pupil 
passing  under  a succession  of  different 
masters,  I fear  the  colour-sense  is  per- 

202 


plexed  and  blunted  ; while  by  stained-glass, 
taught,  as  all  art  should  be,  from  master 
to  apprentice,  while  both  make  their  bread 
by  it,  the  colour-sense  would  be  gradu- 
ally and  steadily  cultivated  and  would  have 
time  to  grow. 

This  at  least  seems  certain : that  all 
painters  who  have  also  done  stained- 
glass,  or  indeed  any  other  decorative  work 
in  colour,  get  stronger  and  braver  in 
painting  from  its  practice.  So  worked 
Titian,  Giorgione,  Veronese ; and  so  in 
our  days  worked  Burne-Jones,  Rossetti, 
Madox-Brown,  Morris  ; and  if  I were  to 
advise  and  prate  about  what  is,  perhaps, 
not  my  proper  business,  I would  say,  even 
to  the  student  of  oil-painting,  “ Begin 
with  burnt-umber,  trying  it  in  every 
degree  with  white  ; transparent  over 
opaque  and  opaque  over  transparent ; 
trying  how  near  you  can  get  to  purple 
and  orange  by  contrast  (and  you  will 
get  nearer  than  you  think) ; then  add 
sienna  at  one  end  and  black  at  the  other 
to  enlarge  the  range  ; — and  then  get  a set 
of  glass  samples. 

I have  said  that  stained-glass  is  ua 
great  means  of  salvation/’  from  irresolu- 
tion and  indecision  on  the  one  hand  and 

203 


Ol-  Colour 


Of  Colour  from  garishness  on  the  other  ; but  it  is 
only  a means — the  fact  of  salvation  lies 
always  in  one’s  own  hands — for  we  must,  I 
fear,  admit  that  “garishness”  and  “irre- 
solution ” are  not  unknown  in  stained- 
glass  itself,  in  spite  of  the  resources  and 
safeguardings  we  have  attributed  to  the 
material.  Speaking,  therefore,  now  to 
stained-glass  painters  themselves,  we 
might  say  that  these  faults  in  their  own 
art,  as  too  often  practised  in  our  days, 
arise,  strange  as  it  may  seem,  from  ignor- 
ance of  their  own  material,  that  very 
material  the  knowledge  of  which  we  have 
just  been  recommending  as  a safeguard 
against  these  very  faults  to  the  students 
of  another  art. 

And  this  brings  us  back  to  our  subject. 

For  the  foregoing  discussion  of  painters’ 
methods  has  all  been  written  to  draw  a 
comparison  and  emphasise  a contrast. 

A contrast  from  which  you,  student 
of  stained-glass,  I hope  may  learn  much. 

For  as  we  have  tried  to  describe  the 
methods  of  the  painter  in  oil  or  water 
colours,  and  so  point  out  his  advantages 
and  disadvantages,  so  we  would  now 
draw  a picture  of  the  glass-painter  at 
work  ; if  he  works  as  he  should  do. 

204 


For  the  painter  of  pictures  (we  said) 
has  his  colour-box  of  a few  pigments, 
from  which  all  his  harmonies  must  come 
by  mixing  them  and  diluting  them  in 
various  proportions,  dealing  with  infinity 
out  of  a very  limited  range  of  materials, 
and  required  to  supply  all  the  rest  by  his 
own  skill  and  memory. 

Coming  each  day  to  his  work  with 
his  palette  clean  and  his  colours  in  their 
tubes  ; 

Beginning,  as  it  were,  all  over  again 
each  time  ; and  perhaps  with  his  heart 
cold  and  his  memory  dull. 

But  the  glass-painter  has  his  specimens 
of  glass  round  him ; some  hundreds, 
perhaps,  of  all  possible  tints. 

He  has,  with  these,  to  compose  a 
subject  in  colour ; 

There  is  no  getting  out  of  it  or 
shirking  it ; 

He  places  the  bits  side  by  side,  with 
no  possibility  (which  the  palette  gives) 
of  slurring  or  diluting  or  dulling  them  ; 
he  must  choose  from  the  clear  hard  tints ; 

And  he  has  the  whole  problem  before 
him  ; 

He  removes  one  and  substitutes 
another ; 


Of  Colour 


205 


Of  Colour 


“This  looks  better;”  “That  is  a 
pleasant  harmony;”  “Ah!  but  this 
makes  it  sing  ! ” 

He  gets  them  into  groups,  and  com- 
bines them  into  harmonies,  tint  with 
tint,  group  with  group  : 

If  he  is  wise  he  has  them  always  by 
him  ; 

Always  ready  to  arrange  in  a movable 
frame  against  the  window ; 

He  cuts  little  bits  of  each  ; he  waxes 
them,  or  gums  them,  into  groups  on 
sheets  of  glass ; 

He  tries  all  his  effects  in  the  glass 
itself ; he  sketches  in  glass. 

If  he  is  wise  he  does  this  side  by  side 
with  his  water-colour  sketch,  making 
each  help  the  other,  and  thinking  in 
glass ; even  perhaps  making  his  water- 
colour sketch  afterwards  from  the  glass. 

Is  it  not  reasonable  ? 

Is  it  not  far  more  easy,  less  dangerous  ? 

He  has  not  to  rake  in  his  cold  and 
meagre  memory  to  fish  out  some  poor 
handful  of  all  the  possible  harmonies  ; 

To  repeat  himself  over  and  over  again. 

He  has  all  the  colours  burning  round 
him  ; singing  to  him  to  use  them ; 
sounding  all  their  chords. 

206 


Is  it  not  the  way  ? Is  it  not  common  Of  Colour 
sense  ? 

Tints  ! pure  tints  ! What  great  things 
they  are. 

I remember  an  old  joke  of  the  pleasant 
Du  Maurier,  a drawing  representing  two 
fashionable  ladies  discussing  the  after- 
noon’s occupation.  One  says : “ It’s 

quite  too  dull  to  see  colours  at  Madame 
St.  Aldegonde’s  ; suppose  we  go  to  the  Old 
Masters’  Exhibition  ! ” 

Rather  too  bad  ! but  the  ladies  were  not 
so  altogether  frivolous  as  might  at  first 
appear.  I am  afraid  Punch  meant  that 
they  were  triflers  who  looked  upon 
colour  in  dress  as  important,  and  colour 
in  pictures  as  a thing  which  would  do  for 
a dull  day.  But  they  were  not  quite  so 
far  astray  as  -this ! There  are  other  things 
in  pictures  besides  colour  which  can  be 
seen  with  indifferent  light.  But  to  match 
clear  tint  against  clear  tint,  and  put 
together  harmonies,  there  is  no  getting 
away  from  the  problem  ! It  is  all  sheer, 
hard  exercise ; you  want  all  your  light 
for  it ; there  is  no  slurring  or  diluting, 
no  “ glazing  ” or  “ scumbling,”  and  it 
should  form  a part  of  the  teaching,  and 
yet  it  never  does  so,  in  our  academies 

207 


Of  Colour  and  schools  of  art.  A curious  matter 
this  is,  that  a painter’s  training  leaves 
this  great  resource  of  knowledge  ne- 
glected, leaves  the  whole  thing  to 
memory.  Out  of  all  the  infinite  possible 
harmonies  only  getting  what  rise  in  the 
mind  at  the  moment  from  the  unseen. 
While  ladies  who  want  to  dress  beauti- 
fully look  at  the  things  themselves,  and 
compare  one  with  another.  And  how 
nicely  they  dress.  If  only  painters 
painted  half  as  well.  If  the  pictures  in 
our  galleries  only  looked  half  as  har- 
monious as  the  crowd  of  spectators  below 
them ! I would  have  it  part  of  every 
painter’s  training  to  practise  some  craft, 
or  at  least  that  branch  of  some  craft, 
which  compels  the  choosing  and  arranging, 
in  due  proportions  for  harmony,  of  clear, 
sharp  glowing  colours  in  some  definite 
material,  from  a full  and  lavish  range 
of  existing  samples.  It  is  true  that 
here  and  there  a painter  will  arise  who 
has  by  nature  that  kind  of  instinct  or 
memory,  or  whatever  it  is,  that  seems 
to  feel  harmonies  beforehand,  note  by 
note,  and  add  them  to  one  another 
with  infallible  accuracy  ; but  very  few 
possess  this,  and  for  those  who  lack  I 
208 


am  urging  this  training.  For  it  is  a 
case  of 

“ the  little  more  and  how  much  it  is, 

And  the  little  less  and  what  worlds  away.” 

Millais  hung  a daring  crimson  sash  over 
the  creamy-white  bed-quilt,  in  the  glow 
of  the  subdued  night-lamp,  in  his  pic- 
ture of  “ Asleep,”  and  we  all  thought 
what  a fine  thing  it  was.  But  we  have 
not  thought  it  so  fine  for  the  whole 
art  world  to  burst  into  the  subsequent 
imitative  paroxysm  of  crashing  discords 
in  chalk,  lip-salve,  and  skim -milk,  which 
has  lasted  almost  to  this  day. 

At  any  rate,  I throw  out  this  hint  for 
pupils  and  students,  that  if  they  will  get 
a set  of  glass  samples  and  try  combina- 
tions of  colour  in  them,  they  will  have 
a bracing  and  guiding  influence,  the 
strength  of  which  they  little  dream  of, 
regarding  one  of  the  hardest  problems 
of  their  art. 

This  for  the  student  of  painting  in 
general : but  for  the  glass-painter  it  is 
absolutely  essential  — the  central  point, 
the  breath-of-life  of  his  art. 

To  live  in  it  daily  and  all  day. 

To  be  ever  dealing  with  it  thus. 

0 


Of  Colour 


2°9 


Of  Colour 


To  handle  with  the  hands  constantly. 

To  try  this  piece,  and  that  piece,  the 
little  more  and  the  little  less. 

This  is  the  be-all  and  end-all,  the 
beginning  and  the  end  of  the  whole 
matter,  and  here  therefore  follow  a few 
hints  with  regard  to  it. 

And  there  is  one  rule  of  such  dominat- 
ing importance  that  all  other  hints  group 
themselves  round  it ; and  yet,  strangely 
enough,  I cannot  remember  seeing  it 
anywhere  written  down. 

Take  three  tints  of  glass— a purple,  let 
us  say,  a crimson,  and  a green. 

Let  it  be  supposed  that,  for  some 
reason,  you  desire  that  this  should  form 
a scheme  of  colour  for  a window,  or  part 
of  a window,  with,  of  course,  in  addition, 
pure  white,  and  probably  some  tints  more 
neutral,  greenish-whites  and  olives  or  greys, 
for  background. 

You  choose  your  purple  (and,  by-the- 
bye,  almost  the  only  way  to  get  a satis- 
factory one,  except  by  a happy  accident 
now  and  then,  is  to  double  gold-pink  with 
blue  ; this  is  the  only  way  to  get  a purple 
that  will  vibrate,  palpitating  against  the 
eye  like  the  petal  of  a pansy  in  the  sun). 
Well,  you  get  your  purple,  and  you  get 

210 


your  green — not  a sage-green,  or  an  “art- 
green,”  but  a cold,  sharp  green,  like  a leaf 
of  parsley,  an  aquamarine,  the  tree  in  the 
“ Eve  ” window  at  Fairford,  grass  in  an 
orchard  about  sunset,  or  a railway-signal 
lamp  at  night. 

Your  crimson  like  a peony,  your 
white  like  white  silk ; and  now  you  are 
started. 

You  put  slabs  of  these — equal-sized 
samples,  we  will  suppose — side  by  side, 
and  see  “ if  they  will  do.” 

And  they  don’t  “do”  at  all. 

Take  away  the  red. 

The  green  and  the  purple  do  well 
enough,  and  the  white. 

But  you  want  the  red,  you  say. 

Well,  put  back  a tenth  part  of  it. 

And  how  now  ? 

Add  a still  smaller  bit  of  pale  pink. 

And  how  now  ? 

Do  you  see  what  it  all  means  ? It 
means  the  rule  we  spoke  of,  and  which 
we  may  as  well,  therefore,  now  announce  : 

“Harmony  in  colour  depends  not 

ONLY  UPON  THE  ARRANGING  OF  RIGHT 
COLOURS  TOGETHER,  BUT  THE  ARRANG- 
ING OF  THE  RIGHT  QUANTITIES  AND  THE 
RIGHT  DEGREES  OF  THEM  TOGETHER.” 


Of  Colour 


21 1 


Of  Colour 


To  which  may  be  added  another,  apropos 
of  our  bit  of  “ pale  pink.” 

The  harshest  contrasts,  even  dis- 
cords, MAY  OFTEN  BE  BROUGHT  INTO 
HARMONY  BY  ADDED  NOTES. 

I believe  that  these  are  the  two,  and 
I would  even  almost  say  the  only  two, 
great  leading  principles  of  the  science  of 
colour,  as  used  in  the  service  of  Art ; and 
we  might  learn  them,  in  all  their  fulness, 
in  a country  walk,  if  we  were  simple 
enough  to  like  things  because  we  like 
them,  and  let  the  kind  nurse,  Nature, 
take  us  by  the  hand.  This  very  problem, 
to  wit : Did  you  never  see  a purple  ane- 
mone ? against  its  green  leaves  ? with  a 
white  centre  ? and  with  a thin  ring  of 
crimson  shaded  off  into  pink  ? And  did 
you  never  wonder  at  its  beauty,  and 
wonder  how  so  simple  a thing  could 
strike  you  almost  breathless  with  pure 
physical  delight  and  pleasure  ? No  doubt 
you  did  ; but  you  probably  may  not  have 
asked  yourself  whether  you  would  have 
been  equally  pleased  if  the  purple,  green, 
and  red  had  all  been  equal  in  quantity, 
and  the  pale  pink  omitted. 

I remember  especially  in  one  particular 
window  where  this  colour  scheme  was 


212 


adopted — an  “Anemone-coloured”  win- 
dow— the  modification  of  the  one  splash 
of  red  by  the  introduction  of  a lighter 
pink  which  suggested  itself  in  the  course 
of  work  as  it  went  along,  and  was  the 
pet  fancy  of  an  assistant — readily  accepted. 

The  window  in  question  is  small  and 
in  nowise  remarkable,  but  it  was  in  the 
course  of  a ride  taken  to  see  it  in  its 
place,  on  one  of  tho§e  glorious  mornings 
when  Spring  puts  on  all  the  pageantry 
of  Summer,  that  the  thoughts  with  which 
we  are  now  dealing,  and  especially  the 
thoughts  of  the  infinite  suggestion  which 
Nature  gives  in  untouched  country  and 
of  the  need  we  have  to  drink  often  at 
that  fountain,  were  borne  in  upon  the 
writer  with  more  than  usual  force. 

To  take  in  fully  and  often  the  glowing 
life  and  strength  and  renewal  direct  from 
Nature  is  part  of  every  man’s  proper 
manhood,  still  more  then  of  every  artist’s 
artistry  and  student’s  studentship. 

And  truly  ’tis  no  great  hardship  to 
go  out  to  meet  the  salutary  discipline 
when  the  country  is  beautiful  in  mid- 
April,  and  the  road  good  and  the  sun 
pleasant.  The  Spring  air  sets  the  blood 
racing  as  you  ride,  and  when  you  stop 

213 


Of  Colour 


Of  Colour  and  stand  for  a moment  to  enjoy  these 
things,  ankle-deep  in  roadside  grass,  you 
can  seem  to  hear  the  healthy  pulses  beat- 
ing and  see  the  wavy  line  of  hills  beating 
with  them,  as  you  look  at  the  sun- 
warmed  world. 

It  is  good  sometimes  to  think  where 
we  are  in  the  scheme  of  things,  to  realise 
that  we  are  under  the  bell-glass  of  this 
balmy  air,  which  shuts  us  in,  safe  from 
the  pitch-dark  spaces  of  infinite  cold, 
through  which  the  world  is  sweeping  at 
eighteen  miles  a second ; while  we,  with 
all  our  little  problems  to  solve  and  work 
to  do,  are  riding  warm  by  this  fireside, 
and  the  orange-tip  butterflies  with  that 
curious  pertinacity  of  flight  which  is 
speed  without  haste  are  keeping  up  their 
incessant,  rippling  patrol,  to  and  fro  along 
the  length  of  every  sunny  lane,  above  the 
ditch-side  border  of  white-blossomed  keck! 

What  has  all  this  to  do  with  stained- 
glass  ? 

Everything,  my  boy ! Be  a human ! 
For  you  have  got  to  choose  your  place 
in  things,  and  to  choose  on  which  side 
you  will  work. 

A choice  which,  in  these  days,  more 
than  ever  perhaps  before,  is  one  between 

214 


such  things  as  these  and  the  money- 
getting which  cares  so  little  for  them. 
I have  tried  to  show  you  one  side  by 
speaking  of  a little  part  of  what  may  be 
seen  and  felt  on  a spring  morning,  along  a 
ridge  of  untouched  hills  in  “ pleasant  Hert- 
fordshire : ” 1 if  you  want  to  see  the  other 
side  of  things  ride  across  to  Buntingford, 
and  take  the  train  back  up  the  Lea  Valley. 
Look  at  Stratford  (and  smell  it)  and 
imagine  it  spreading,  as  no  doubt  it  will, 
where  its  outposts  of  oil-mill  and  factory 
have  already  led  the  way,  and  think  of 
the  valley  full  up  with  slums,  from  Lea 
Bridge  to  Ponders  End  ! For  the  present 
writer  can  remember — and  that  not  half 
a lifetime  back — Edmonton  and  Totten- 
ham, Brondesbury  and  Upton  Park,  sweet 
country  villages  where  quiet  people  lived 
and  farmed  and  gardened  amidst  the  or- 
chards, fields,  and  hawthorn  lanes. 

Here  now  live,  in  mile  after  mile  of 
jerry-building,  the  “ hands  ” who,  never 
taught  any  craft  or  work  worthy  of  a 
man,  spend  their  lives  in  some  little  single 
operation  that,  as  it  happens,  no  machine 
has  yet  been  invented  to  perform  ; month 
after  month,  year  after  year,  painting,  let 

1 West  of  the  road  between  Welwyn  and  Hitchin. 

215 


Of  Colour 


Of  Colour  us  say,  endless  repeats  of  one  pattern  to 
use  as  they  are  required  for  the  borders 
of  pious  windows  in  the  churches  of  this 
land. 

This  is  the  “ other  side  of  things,” 
much  commended  by  what  is  looked  on 
as  “ robust  common  sense  ” ; and  with 
this  you  have — nothing  to  do.  Your 
place  is  elsewhere,  and  if  it  needs  be 
that  it  seems  an  isolated  one,  you  must 
bear  it  and  accept  it.  Nature  and  your 
craft  will  solve  all ; live  in  them,  bathe 
in  them  to  the  lips ; and  let  nothing 
tempt  you  away  from  them  to  measure 
things  by  the  standard  of  the  mart. 

Let  us  go  back  to  our  sunny  hillside. 
“ It  is  good  for  us  to  be  here,”  for  this 
also  is  Holy  Ground ; and  you  must 
indeed  be  much  amongst  such  things  if 
you  would  do  stained-glass,  for  you  will 
never  learn  all  the  joy  of  it  in  a dusty 
shop. 

“ So  hard  to  get  out  of  London  ? ” 

But  get  a bicycle  then  only  sit  up- 
right on  it  and  go  slow — and  get  away 
from  these  bricks  and  mortar,  to  where 
we  can  see  things  like  these  ! those  dande- 
lions and  daisies  against  the  deep,  green 
grass  ; the  blazing  candles  of  the  sycamore 

216 


buds  against  the  purple  haze  of  the  oak 
copse ; and  those  willows  like  puffs  of 
grey  smoke  where  the  stream  winds.  Did 
you  ever?  No,  you  never!  Well — do 
it  then  ! 

But  indeed,  having  stated  our  principles 
of  colour,  the  practice  of  those  principles 
and  the  influence  of  nature  and  of  nature’s 
hints  upon  that  practice  are  infinite,  both 
in  number  and  variety.  The  flowers  of 
the  field  and  garden ; butterflies,  birds, 
and  shells ; the  pebbles  of  the  shore ; 
above  all,  the  dry  seaweeds,  lying  there, 
with  the  evening  sun  slanting  through 
them.  These  last  are  exceedingly  like 
both  in  colour  and  texture,  or  rather  in 
colour  and  the  amount  of  translucency, 
to  fine  old  stained-glass ; so  also  are  dead 
leaves.  But,  in  short,  the  thing  is  endless. 
The  “ wine  when  it  is  red  ” (or  amber,  as 
the  case  may  be),  even  the  whisky  and 
water,  and  whisky  without  water,  side  by 
side,  make  just  those  straw  and  ripe-corn 
coloured  golden-yellows  that  are  so  hard 
to  attain  in  stained-glass  (impossible  indeed 
by  means  of  yellow-stain),  and  yet  so  much 
to  be  desired  and  sought  after. 

Will  you  have  more  hints  still  ? Well, 
there  are  many  tropical  butterflies,  chiefly 

217 


Of  Colour 


Of  Colour  among  the  Pierinx^  with  broad  spaces  of 
yellow  dashed  with  one  small  spot  or  flush 
of  vivid  orange  or  red.  Now  you  know 
how  terrible  yellow  and  red  may  be  made 
to  look  in  a window ; for  you  have  seen 
“ruby”  robes  in  conjunction  with  “yellow- 
stain,”  or  the  still  more  horrible  combina- 
tion where  ruby  has  been  acided  off  from 
a yellow  base.  But  it  is  a question  of 
the  actual  quality  of  the  two  tints  and 
also  of  their  quantity.  What  I have 
spoken  of  looks  horrible  because  the 
yellow  is  of  a brassy  tone,  as  stain  so 
often  is,  especially  on  green-white  glasses, 
and  the  red  inclining  to  puce — jam-colour. 
It  is  no  use  talking,  therefore,  of  “red 
and  yellow” — we  must  say  what  red  and 
what  yellow,  and  how  much  of  each  A 
magenta-coloured  dahlia  and  a lemon  put 
together  would  set,  I should  think,  any 
teeth  on  edge ; yet  ripe  corn  goes  well 
with  poppies,  but  not  too  many  poppies — 
while  if  one  wing  of  our  butterfly  were 
of  its  present  yellow  and  the  other  wing 
of  the  same  scarlet  as  the  spot,  it  would 
be  an  ugly  object  instead  of  one  of  the 
delights  of  God.  It  is  interesting,  it  is 
fascinating  to  take  the  hint  from  such 
things — to  splash  the  golden  wings  of 
218 


your  Resurrection  Angel  as  he  rolls  away 
the  stone  with  scarlet  beads  of  sunrise, 
not  seen  but  felt  from  where  you  stand 
on  the  pavement  below.  I want  the  reader 
to  fully  grasp  this  question  of  quantity , 
so  I will  instance  the  flower  of  the  mullein 
which  contains  almost  the  very  tints  of 
the  “lemon,”  and  the  “dahlia”  I quoted, 
and  yet  is  beautiful  by  virtue  of  its  quan- 
tities : which  may  be  said  to  be  of  a 
“ lemon  ” yellow  and  yet  can  bear  (ay ! 
can  it  not?)  the  little  crimson  stamens  in 
the  heart  of  it  and  its  sage-green  leaves 
around. 

And  there  is  even  something  besides 
“tint”  and  “quantity.”  The  way  you 
distribute  your  colour  matters  very  much. 
Some  in  washes,  some  in  splashes,  some 
in  spots,  some  in  stripes.  What  will 
“ not  do  ” in  one  way  will  often  be  just 
right  in  the  other : yes,  and  the  very 
way  you  treat  your  glass  when  all  is 
chosen  and  placed  together — matt  in  one 
place,  film  in  another,  chequering,  cross- 
hatching,  clothing  the  raw  glass  with 
texture  and  bringing  out  its  nature  and 
its  life. 

Do  not  be  afraid ; for  the  things  that 
yet  remain  to  do  are  numberless.  Do 

219 


Of  Colour 


Of  Colour  you  like  the  look  of  deep  vivid  vermilion- 
red,  upon  dark  cold  green  ? Look  at  the 
hip-loaded  rose-briar  burning  in  the  last 
rays  of  a red  October  sunset ! You  get 
physical  pleasure  from  the  sight ; the  eye 
seems  to  vibrate  to  the  harmony  as  the 
ear  enjoys  a chord  struck  upon  the  strings. 
Therefore  do  not  fear.  But  mind,  it  must 
be  in  nature’s  actual  colour,  not  merely 
u green”  and  “red”:  for  I once  saw  the 
head  of  a celebrated  tragic  actress  painted 
by  a Dutch  artist  who,  to  make  it  as 
deathly  as  he  could,  had  placed  the  ashen 
face  upon  a background  of  emerald-green 
with  spots  of  actual  red  sealing-wax.  The 
eye  was  so  affected  that  the  colours  swung 
to  and  fro,  producing  in  a short  time  a 
nausea  like  sea-sickness.  That  is  not 
pleasure. 

The  training  of  the  colour-sense,  like 
all  else,  should  be  gradual ; springing  as 
it  were  from  small  seed.  Be  reticent,  try 
small  things  first.  You  are  not  likely  to 
be  asked  to  do  a great  window  all  at 
once,  even  if  you  have  the  misfortune 
to  be  an  independent  artist  approaching 
this  new  art  without  a gradual  training 
under  the  service  of  others.  Try  some 
simple  scheme  from  the  things  of  Nature. 
220 


Hyacinths  look  well  with  their  leaves  : 
therefore  that  green  and  that  blue,  with 
the  white  of  April  clouds  and  the  black 
of  the  tree-stems  in  the  wood  are  colours 
that  can  be  used  together. 

You  must  be  prepared  to  find  almost 
a sort  of  penalty  in  this  habit  of  looking 
at  everything  with  the  eye  of  a stained- 
glass  artist.  One  seems  after  a time  to 
see  natural  objects  with  numbers  attached 
to  them  corresponding  with  the  numbers 
of  one’s  glasses  in  the  racks  : butterflies 
flying  about  labelled  “No.  50,  deep,”  or 
“750,  pale,”  or  a bit  of  “123,  special 
streaky”  in  the  sunset.  But  if  one  does 
not  obtrude  this  so  as  to  bore  one’s 
friends,  the  little  personal  discomfort,  if 
it  exists,  is  a very  small  price  to  pay  for 
the  delight  of  living  in  this  glorious  fairy- 
land of  colour. 

Do  not  think  it  beneath  your  dignity 
or  as  if  you  were  shirking  some  vital 
artistic  obligation,  to  take  hints  from  these 
natural  objects,  or  from  ancient  or  modern 
glass,  in  a perfectly  frank  and  simple 
manner ; nay,  even  to  match  your  whole 
colour  scheme,  tint  for  tint,  by  them  if 
it  seems  well  to  you.  You  may  get  help 
anywhere  and  from  anything,  and  as  much 

221 


Of  Colour 


Of  Colour 


as  you  like  ; it  will  only  be  so  much  more 
chance  for  you ; so  much  richer  a store 
to  choose  from,  so  much  stronger  resource 
to  guide  to  good  end ; for  after  all,  with 
all  the  helps  you  can  get,  much  lies  in 
the  doing.  Do  what  you  like  then — as 
a child : but  be  sure  you  do  like  it : and 
if  the  window  wants  a bit  of  any  particular 
tint,  put  it  there,  meaning  or  no  meaning. 
If  there  is  no  robe  or  other  feature  to 
excuse  and  account  for  it  in  the  spot 
which  seems  to  crave  for  it, — put  the 
colour  in,  anywhere  and  anyhow — in  the 
background  if  need  be — a sudden  orange 
or  ruby  “ quarry”  or  bit  of  a quarry, 
as  if  the  thing  were  done  in  purest 
waywardness.  “You  would  like  a bit 
there  if  there  were  an  excuse  for  it  ? ” 
Then  there  is  an  excuse  — the  best  of 
all  — that  the  eye  demands  it.  Do  it 
fearlessly. 

But  to  work  in  this  way  (it  hardly 
need  be  said)  you  must  watch  and  work 
at  your  glass  yourself ; for  these  hints 
come  late  on  in  the  work,  when  colour, 
light  and  shade,  and  design  are  all  fusing 
together  into  a harmony.  You  can  no 
more  forecast  these  final  accidents,  which 
are  the  flower  and  crown  and  finish  of 


222 


the  whole,  than  you  could  forecast  the 
lost  “ Chord  ” ; — - 

“ Which  came  frpm  the  soul  of  the  organ, 

And  entered  into  mine.” 

It  “ comes  from  the  soul  ” of  the  window. 

We  all  know  the  feeling — the  climaxes, 
exceptions,  surprises,  suspensions,  in  which 
harmony  delights ; the  change  from  the 
last  bar  of  the  overture  to  the  first  of 
the  opening  recitative  in  the  “ Messiah,” 
the  chord  upon  which  the  victor  is 
crowned  in  “ The  Meistersingers,”  the 
59th  and  60th  bars  in  Handel’s  “ Every 
Valley.”  (I  hope  some  of  us  are  ‘‘old- 
fashioned  ” enough  to  be  unashamed  of 
still  believing  in  Handel !) 

Or  if  it  may  be  said  that  these  are 
hardly  examples  of  the  kind  of  accidental 
things  I have  spoken  of,  being  rather, 
indeed,  the  deliberately  arranged  climax 
to  which  the  whole  construction  has  been 
leading,  I would  instance  the  12th  (com- 
plete) bar  in  the  overture  to  “Tann- 
hauser,”  the  20th  and  22nd  bar  in  Chopin’s 
Funeral  March,  the  change  from  the 
minor  to  major  in  Schubert’s  Romance 
from  “ Rosamunde,”  and  the  24th  bar 
in  his  Serenade  ( Standchen ),  the  13th 

223 


Of  Colour 


Of  Colour  and  following  bars  of  the  Crescendo  in 
the  Largo  Appassionato  of  Beethoven’s 
Op.  2.  Or  if  you  wish  to  have  an 
example  where  all  is  exception,  like  one 
of  the  south  nave  windows  in  York 
Minster,  the  opening  of  the  “ Sonata  Ap- 
passionata,”  Op.  57. 

Now  how  can  you  forecast  such  things 
as  these ! 

Let  me  draw  another  instance  from 
actual  practice.  I was  once  painting  a 
figure  of  a bishop  in  what  I meant  to  be 
a dark  green  robe,  the  kind  of  black, 
and  yet  vivid,  green  of  the  summer  leaf- 
age of  the  oak ; for  it  was  St.  Boniface 
who  cut  down  the  heathen  oak  of  Frisia. 
But  the  orphreys  of  his  cope  were  to  be 
embroidered  in  gold  upon  this  green,  and 
therefore  the  pattern  had  first  to  be 
acided  out  in  white  upon  a blue-flashed 
glass,  which  yellow  stain  over  all  would 
afterwards  turn  into  green  and  gold. 
And  when  all  was  prepared  and  the 
staining  should  have  followed,  my  head 
man  sent  for  me  to  come  to  the  shop,  and 
there  hung  the  figure  with  its  dark  green 
robe  with  orphreys  of  deep  blue  and  silver. 

“ I thought  you’d  like  to  look  at  it 
before  we  stained  it,”  said  he. 

224 


“Stain  it!”  I said.  “I  wouldn’t  Of  Colour 
touch  it ; not  for  sixpence  three-far- 
things ! ” 

There  was  a sigh  of  relief  all  round 
the  shop,  and  the  reply  was,  “ Well,  so 
we  all  thought ! ” 

Just  so ; therefore  the  figure  remained, 
and  so  was  erected  in  its  place.  Now 
suppose  I had  had  men  who  did  what  they 
were  told,  instead  of  being  encouraged  to 
think  and  feel  and  suggest  ? 

A serious  word  to  you  about  this  ques- 
tion of  staining.  It  is  a resource  very 
easily  open  to  abuse — to  excess.  Be  care- 
ful of  the  danger,  and  never  stain  without 
first  trying  the  effect  on  the  back  of  the 
easel-plate  with  pure  gamboge,  and  if  you 
wish  for  a very  clear  orange-stain,  mix 
with  the  gamboge  a little  ordinary  red 
ink.  It  is  too  much  the  custom  to 

“ pick  out  ” every  bit  of  silver  “ canopy  ” 
work  with  dottings  and  stripings  of 
yellow.  A little  sometimes  warms  up 
pleasantly  what  would  be  too  cold — and 
the  old  men  used  it  with  effect : but  the 
modern  tendency,  as  is  the  case  in  all 
things  merely  imitative,  is  to  overdo  it. 

For  the  old  men  used  it  very  differently 
from  those  who  copy  them  in  the  way  I 
p 225 


Of  Colour  am  speaking  of,  and,  to  begin  with,  used 
it  chiefly  on  pure  white  glass.  Much 
modern  canopy  work  is  done  on  greenish- 
white,  upon  which  the  stain  immediately 
becomes  that  greenish-yellow  that  I have 
called  “ brassy.”  A little  of  this  can  be 
borne,  when  side  by  side  with  it  is  placed 
stain  upon  pure  white.  The  reader  will 
easily  find,  if  he  looks  for  them,  plenty 
of  examples  in  old  glass,  where  the  stain 
upon  the  white  glass  has  taken  even  a 
rosy  tinge  exactly  like  that  of  a yellow 
crocus  seen  through  its  white  sheath. 
It  is  perhaps  owing  partly  to  patina  on 
the  old  glass,  which  “ scumbles  ” it ; but 
I have  myself  sometimes  succeeded  in 
getting  the  same  effect  by  using  yellow- 
stain  on  pure  white  glass.  A whole  win- 
dow, where  the  highest  light  is  a greenish 
white,  is  to  me  very  unpleasant,  and  when 
in  addition  yellow-stain  is  used,  unbear- 
able. This  became  a fashion  in  stained- 
glass  when  red-lead-coloured  pigments, 
started  by  Barff’s  formula,  came  into 
general  use.  They  could  not  be  used 
on  pure  white  glass,  and  therefore  pure 
white  glass  was  discarded  and  greenish- 
white  used  instead.  I can  only  say  that 
if  the  practice  of  stained-glass  were  pre- 
226 


sented  to  me  with  this  condition— of  Of  Colour 
abstaining  from  the  use  of  pure  white — 

I would  try  to  learn  some  useful  trade. 

There  is  another  question  of  ideals  in 
the  treatment  of  colour  in  stained-glass 
about  which  a word  must  be  said. 

Those  who  are  enthusiastic  about  the 
material  of  stained-glass  and  its  improve- 
ment are  apt  to  condemn  the  degree  of 
heaviness  with  which  windows  are  ordi- 
narily painted,  and  this  to  some  extent 
is  a just  criticism.  But  I cannot  go  the 
length  of  thinking  that  all  matt-painting 
should  be  avoided,  and  outline  only  used ; 
or  that  stained-glass  material  can,  except 
under  very  unusual  conditions  and  in 
exceptional  situations,  be  independent  of 
this  resource.  As  to  the  slab-glasses — 
“Early-English,”  “Norman,”  or  “stamped- 
circles  ” — which  are  chiefly  affected  by  this 
question,  the  texture  and  surface  upon 
which  their  special  character  depends  is 
sometimes  a very  useful  resource  in  work 
seen  against,  or  partly  against,  background 
of  trees  or  buildings ; while  against  an 
entirely  “ borrowed  ” light  perhaps,  some- 
times, it  can  almost  dispense  with  any 
painting.  The  grey  shadows  that  come 
from  the  background  play  about  in  the 

227 


Of  Colour  glass  and  modify  its  tones,  doing  the 
work  of  painting,  and  doing  it  much 
more  beautifully.  But  this  advantage 
cannot  always  be  had,  for  it  vanishes 
against  clear  sky.  It  is  all,  therefore,  a 
question  of  situation  and  of  aspect,  and  I 
believe  the  right  rule  to  be  to  do  in  all 
cases  what  seems  best  for  every  individual 
bit  of  glass — that  each  piece  should  be 
“cared  for”  on  its  merits  and  “nursed,” 
so  to  speak,  and  its  qualities  brought  out 
and  its  beauty  heightened  by  any  and  every 
means,  just  as  if  it  were  a jewel  to  be  cut 
(or  left  uncut)  or  foiled  (or  left  unfoiled) 
— as  Benvenuto  Cellini  would  treat,  as  he 
tells  you  he  did  treat,  precious  stones. 
There  is  a fashion  now  of  thinking  that 
gems  should  be  uncut.  Well,  gems  are 
hardly  a fair  comparison  in  discussing 
stained-glass  ; for  in  glass  what  we  aim 
at  is  the  effect  of  a composition  and  com- 
bination of  a multitude  of  things,  while 
gems  are  individual  things,  for  the  most 
part,  to  be  looked  at  separately.  But  I 
would  not  lay  down  a rule  even  about 
gems.  Certainly  the  universal,  awkward, 
faceting  of  all  precious  stones — which  is 
a relic  of  the  mid-Victorian  period — is  a 
vulgarity  that  one  is  glad  to  be  rid  of ; but 
228 


if  one  wants  for,  any  reason  the  special 
sparkle,  here  or  there,  which  comes  from 
it,  why  not  use  it  ? I would  use  it  in 
stained-glass  — have  done  so.  If  I have 
got  my  window  already  brilliant  and  the 
whites  pure  white,  and  still  want,  over  and 
above  all  this,  my  “ Star  of  the  Nativity,” 
let  us  say,  to  sparkle  out  with  a light  that 
cannot  be  its  own,  shall  I not  use  a faceted 
“jewel”  of  glass,  forty  feet  from  the  eye, 
where  none  can  see  what  it  is  but  only  what 
it  does,  just  because  it  would  be  a gross 
vulgarity  to  use  it  where  it  would  pretend 
to  be  a diamond  ? 

The  safe  guide  (as  far  as  there  can  be  a 
guide  where  I have  maintained  that  there 
should  not  be  a rule')  is,  surely,  to  gener- 
ally get  the  depth  of  colour  that  you  want 
by  the  glass  itself,  if  you  can , and  therefore 
with  that  aim  to  deal  with  rich,  full- 
coloured  glass  and  to  promote  its  manu- 
facture. But  this  being  once  done  and  the 
resource  carried  to  its  full  limit,  there  is 
no  reason  why  you  should  deny  yourself  the 
further  resource  of  touching  it  with  pig- 
ment to  any  extent  that  may  seem  fit  to 
you  as  an  artist,  and  necessary  to  get  the 
effect  of  colour  and  texture  that  you  are 
aiming  at,  in  the  thing  seen  as  a whole. 

229 


Of  Colour 


Of  Colour  As  to  the  exaggeration  of  making  acci- 
dental streaks  in  the  glass  do  duty  for 
folds  of  drapery,  and  manufacturing  glass 
(as  has  been  done)  to  meet  this  purpose,  I 
hold  the  thing  to  be  a gross  degradation 
and  an  entire  misconception  of  the  relation 
of  materials  to  art.  You  may  also  lay  this 
to  mind,  as  a thing  worthy  of  consideration, 
that  all  old  glass  was  painted,  and  that 
no  school  of  stained-glass  has  ever  existed 
which  made  a principle  of  refusing  this 
aid.  I would  never  argue  from  this  that 
such  cannot  exist,  but  it  is  a thing  to 
be  thought  on. 

Throw  your  net,  then,  into  every  sea, 
and  catch  what  you  can.  Learn  what 
purple  is,  in  the  north  ambulatory  at 
York ; what  green  is,  in  the  east  window 
of  the  same,  in  the  ante-chapel  of  New 
College,  Oxford,  and  in  the  “Adam  and 
Eve”  window  in  the  north  aisle  at  Fair- 
ford  ; what  blue  and  red  are,  in  the 
glorious  east  window  of  the  nave  at 
Gloucester,  and  in  the  glow  and  gloom  of 
Chartres  and  Canterbury  and  King’s  Col- 
lege, Cambridge.  And  when  you  have 
got  all  these  things  in  your  mind,  and 
gathered  lavishly  in  the  field  of  Nature 
also,  face  your  problem  with  a heart 

230 


heated  through  with  the  memory  of  them 
all,  and  with  a will  braced  as  to  a great 
and  arduous  task,  but  one  of  rich  reward. 
For  remember  this  (and  so  let  us  draw 
to  an  end),  that  in  any  large  window  the 
spaces  are  so  great  and  the  problems  so 
numerous  that  a few  colours  and  group- 
ings of  colour,  however  well  chosen,  will 
not  suffice.  Set  out  the  main  scheme  of 
colours  first  : those  that  shall  lead  and 
preponderate  and  convey  your  meaning 
to  the  mind  and  your  intended  impres- 
sion to  the  eye.  But  if  you  stop  here, 
the  effect  will  be  hard  and  coarse  and  cold- 
hearted  in  its  harmonies,  a lot  of  banging 
notes  like  a band  all  brass,  not  out  of 
tune  perhaps,  but  craving  for  the  infinite 
embroidery  of  the  strings  and  wood. 

When,  therefore,  the  main  relations  of 
colour  have  been  all  set  out  and  decided 
for  your  window,  turn  your  attention  to 
small  differences,  to  harmonies  round  the 
harmonies.  Make  each  note  into  a chord, 
each  tint  into  a group  of  tints,  not  only 
the  strong  and  bold,  but  also  the  subtle 
and  tender  ; do  not  miss  the  value  of  small 
modifications  of  tint  that  soften  brilliance 
into  glow.  Study  how  Nature  does  it  on 
the  petals  of  the  pansy  or  sweet-pea. 

231 


Of  Colour 


Of  Colour  You  think  a pansy  is  purple,  and  there  an 
end  ? but  cut  out  the  pale  yellow  band, 
the  orange  central  spot,  the  faint  lilacs 
and  whites  in  between,  and  where  is  your 
pansy  gone  ? 

And  here  I must  now  leave  it  to  you. 
But  one  last  little  hint,  and  do  not  smile 
at  its  simplicity. 

For  the  problem,  after  all,  when  you 
have  gathered  all  the  hints  you  can  from 
nature  or  the  past,  and  collected  your 
resources  from  however  varied  fields,  re- 
solves itself  at  last  into  one  question — 
“ How  shall  I do  it  in  glass  ? ” And  the 
practical  solving  of  this  problem  is  in 
the  handling  of  the  actual  bits  of  coloured 
glass  which  are  the  tools  of  your  craft. 
And  for  manipulating  these  I have  found 
nothing  so  good  as  that  old-fashioned  toy 
— still  my  own  delight  when  a sick-bed 
enforces  idleness — the  kaleidoscope.  A 
sixpenny  one,  pulled  to  pieces,  will  give 
you  the  knowledge  of  how  to  make  it ; and 
you  will  find  a “ Bath-Oliver  ” biscuit-tin, 
or  a large-sized  millboard  “ postal-roll  ” 
will  make  an  excellent  instrument.  But 
the  former  is  best,  because  you  also  then 
have  the  lid  and  the  end.  If  you  cut 

232 


away  all  the  end  of  the  lid  except  a 
rim  of  one-eighth  of  an  inch,  and  insert 
in  its  place  with  cement  a piece  of 
ground-glass,  and  then,  inside  this,  have 
another  lid  of  clear  glass  cemented  on  to 
a rim  of  wood  or  millboard,  you  can,  in 
the  space  between  the  two,  place  chips 
of  the  glasses  you  think  of  using ; and, 
replacing  the  whole  on  the  instrument,  a 
few  minutes  of  turning  with  the  hand 
will  give  you,  not  hundreds,  but  thou- 
sand of  changes,  both  of  the  arrangement, 
and,  what  is  far  more  important,  of  the 
'proportions  of  the  various  colours.  You 
can  thus  in  a few  moments  watch  them 
pass  through  an  almost  infinite  succession 
of  changes  in  their  relation  to  each  other, 
and  form  your  judgment  on  those  changes, 
choosing  finally  that  which  seems  best. 
And  I really  think  that  the  fact  of  these 
combinations  being  presented  to  us,  as 
they  are  by  the  action  of  the  instrument, 
arranged  in  ordered  shapes,  is  a help  to 
the  judgment  in  deciding  on  the  harmonies 
of  colour.  It  is  natural  that  it  should  be 
so.  “ Order  is  Heaven’s  first  law.”  And 
it  is  right  that  we  should  rejoice  in  things 
ordered  and  arranged,  as  the  savage  in 
his  string  of  beads,  and  reasonable  that  we 

233 


Of  Colour 


Of  Colour 


Of  Archi- 
tectural 
F itness 


should  find  it  easier  to  judge  them  in  order 
rather  than  confused. 

Each  in  his  place.  How  good  a thing 
it  is  ! how  much  to  be  desired ! how  well 
if  we  ourselves  could  be  so,  and  know  of 
the  pattern  that  we  make  ! For  our  lives 
are  like  the  broken  bits  of  glass,  sadly 
or  brightly  coloured,  jostled  about  and 
shaken  hither  and  thither,  in  a seeming 
confusion,  which  yet  we  hope  is  some- 
where held  up  to  a light  in  which  each 
one  meets  with  his  own,  and  holds  his 
place ; and,  to  the  Eye  that  watches,  plays 
his  part  in  a universal  harmony  by  us,  as 
yet,  unseen. 


CHAPTER  XVII 

OF  ARCHITECTURAL  FITNESS 

Come,  in  thought,  reader,  and  stand  in 
quiet  village  churches,  nestling  amongst 
trees  where  rooks  are  building ; or  in  gaps 
of  the  chalk  downs,  where  the  village 
shelters  from  the  wind  ; or  in  stately 
cathedrals,  where  the  aisles  echo  to  the 
footstep  and  the  sound  of  the  chimes 
comes  down,  with  the  memory  of  the  cen- 
turies which  have  lived  and  died.  Here 
234 


the  old  artists  set  their  handmark  to  live 
now  they  are  gone,  and  we  who  see  it 
to-day  see,  if  our  eye  be  single,  with  what 
sincerity  they  built,  carved,  or  painted 
their  heart  and  life  into  these  stones.  In 
such  a spirit  and  for  such  a memorial  you 
too  must  do  your  work,  to  be  weighed  by 
the  judgment  of  the  coming  ages,  when 
you  in  turn  are  gone,  in  the  same  balance 
as  theirs — perhaps  even  side  by  side  with  it. 

And  will  you  dare  to  venture  ? Have 
no  fear  if  you  also  bring  your  best.  But 
if  we  enter  on  work  like  this  as  to  a 
mere  market  for  our  wares,  and  with  no 
other  thought  than  to  make  a brisk  busi- 
ness with  those  that  buy  and  sell ; we  well 
may  pray  that  some  merciful  scourge  of 
small  cords  drive  us  also  hence  to  dig  or 
beg  (which  is  more  honourable),  lest  worse 
befall  us ! 

And  I do  not  say  these  things  because 
this  or  that  place  is  “ God’s  house.”  All 
places  are  so,  and  the  first  that  was  called 
so  was  the  bare  hillside ; but  because  you 
are  a man  and  have  indeed  here  arrived, 
as  there  the  lonely  traveller  did,  at  the 
arena  of  your  wrestling.  But,  granted 
that  you  mean  to  hold  your  own  and  put 
your  strength  into  it,  I have  brought 

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Of  Archi- 
tectural 
Fitness 


you  to  these  grave  walls  to  consult  with 
them  as  to  the  limits  they  impose  upon 
your  working. 

And  perhaps  the  most  important  of  all 
is  already  observed  by  your  being  here,  for 
it  is  important  that  you  should  visit, 
whenever  possible,  the  place  where  you 
are  to  do  work ; if  you  are  not  able  to  do 
this,  get  all  the  particulars  you  can  as  to 
aspect  and  surroundings.  And  yet  a re- 
servation must  be  made,  even  upon  all 
this ; for  everything  depends  upon  the 
way  we  use  it,  and  if  you  only  have  an 
eye  to  the  showing  off  of  your  work  to 
advantage,  treating  the  church  as  a mere 
frame  for  your  picture,  it  would  be  better 
that  your  window  should  misfit  and  have 
to  be  cut  down  and  altered,  or  anything 
else  happen  to  it  that  would  help  to  put 
it  back  and  make  it  take  second  place.  It 
is  so  hard  to  explain  these  things  so  that 
they  cannot  be  misconstrued  ; but  you  re- 
member I quoted  the  windows  at  St. 
Philip’s,  Birmingham,  as  an  example  of 
noble  thought  and  work  carried  to  the 
pitch  of  perfection  and  design.  But  that 
was  in  a classic  building,  with  large,  plain, 
single  openings  without  tracery.  Do  you 
think  the  artist  would  have  let  himself  go, 
236 


in  that  full  and  ample  way,  in  a beautiful 
Gothic  building  full  of  lovely  architectural 
detail  ? Not  so : rather  would  he  have 
made  his  pictures  hang  lightly  and  daintily 
in  the  air  amongst  the  slender  shafts,  as 
in  St.  Martin’s  Church  in  the  same  town, 
at  Jesus  College  and  at  All  Saints’  Church, 
Cambridge,  at  Tamworth ; and  in  Lynd- 
hurst,  and  many  another  church  where 
the  architecture,  to  say  truth,  had  but 
slender  claims  to  such  respect. 

In  short,  you  must  think  of  the  building 
first,  and  make  your  windows  help  it. 
You  must  observe  its  scale  and  the  spacing 
and  proportions  of  its  style,  and  place 
your  own  work,  with  whatever  new  feeling 
and  new  detail  may  be  natural  to  you,  well 
within  those  circumscribing  bounds. 

> *But  here  we  find  ourselves  suddenly 
brought  sharp  up,  face  to  face  with  a 
most  difficult  and  thorny  subject,  upon 
which  we  have  rushed  without  knowing 
it.  “ Must  we  observe  then  ” (you  say) 
“ the  style  of  the  building  into  which  we 
put  our  work,  and  not  have  a style  of  our 
own  that  is  native  to  us  ? 

“ This  is  contrary  to  all  you  have  been 
preaching  ! The  old  men  did  not  so.  Did 

237 


Of  Archi- 
tectural 
Fitness 


Of  Archi-  they  not  add  the  fancies  of  their  own 
tectural  time  to  the  0}^  WOrk,  and  fill  with  their 

ltness  dainty,  branching  tracery  the  severe,  round- 
headed,  Norman  openings  of  Peterborough 
and  Gloucester  ? Did  fifteenth-century 
men  do  thirteenth-century  glass  when  they 
had  to  refill  a window  of  that  date  ? ” No. 
Nor  must  you.  Never  imitate,  but  graft 
your  own  work  on  to  the  old,  reverently, 
and  only  changing  from  it  so  far  forth  as 
you,  like  itself,  have  also  a living  tradition, 
springing  from  mastery  of  craft — naturally, 
spontaneously,  and  inevitably. 

Whether  we  shall  ever  again  have  such 
a tradition  running  throughout  all  the 
arts  is  a thing  that  cannot  possibly  be 
foretold.  But  three  things  we  may  be 
quite  sure  of. 

First,  that  if  it  comes  it  will  not  be  by 
way  of  any  imitative  revival  of  a past  style  ; 

Second,  that  it  will  be  in  harmony  wiih 
the  principles  of  Nature ; and 

Third,  that  it  will  be  founded  upon  the 
crafts,  and  brought  about  by  craftsmen 
working  in  it  with  their  own  hands,  on 
the  materials  of  architecture,  designing 
only  what  they  themselves  can  execute, 
and  giving  employment  to  others  only  in 
what  they  themselves  can  do. 

238 


A word  about  each  of  these  three  con- 
ditions. 

In  the  course  of  the  various  attempted 
revivals  in  architecture  that  have  taken 
place  during  the  past  sixty  years,  it  has 
been  frequently  urged  both  by  writers  and 
architects  that  we  should  agree  to  revive 
some  one  style  of  ancient  art  that  might 
again  become  a national  style  of  archi- 
tecture. It  would,  indeed,  no  doubt  be 
better,  if  we  must  speak  in  a dead  lan- 
guage, to  agree  to  use  only  one,  instead  of 
our  present  confusion  of  tongues:  but  what, 
after  all,  is  the  adopting  of  this  principle 
at  all  but  to  engage  once  again  in  the  re- 
planting of  a full-grown  tree — the  mistake 
of  the  Renaissance  and  the  Gothic  revival 
repeated  ? Such  things  never  take  firm  root 
or  establish  healthy  growth  which  lives  and 
goes  on  of  its  own  vitality.  They  never 
succeed  in  obtaining  a natural,  national 
sympathy  and  acceptance.  The  move- 
ment is  a scholarly  and  academic  one,  and 
the  art  so  remains.  The  reaction  against 
it  is  always  a return  to  materials,  and 
almost  always  the  first  result  of  this  is  a 
revival  of  simplicity.  People  get  tired  of 
being  surrounded  with  elaborate  mould- 
ings and  traceries  and  other  architectural 

239 


Of  Archi- 
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F itness 


Of  Archi- 
tectural 
Fitness 


features,  which  are  not  the  natural  growth 
of  their  own  day  but  of  another  day  long 
since  dead,  which  had  other  thoughts  and 
moods,  feelings  and  aspirations.  “ Let  us 
have  straightforward  masonry  and  simple 
openings,  and  ornament  them  with  some- 
thing from  Nature.” 

So  in  the  very  midst  of  the  pampered 
and  enervated  over-refinement  of  Roman 
decay,  Constantine  did  something  more 
than  merely  turn  the  conquering  eagle 
back,  against  the  course  of  the  heavens, 
for  which  Dante  seems  to  blame  him,1 
when  he  established  his  capital  at  Byzan- 
tium; for  there  at  once  upon  the  new 
soil,  and  in  less  than  a single  century, 
sprang  to  life  again  all  the  natural  modes 
of  building  and  decoration  that,  despised 
as  barbaric,  had  been  ignored  and  for- 
gotten amid  the  Roman  luxury  and  sham. 

It  is  a curious  feature  of  these  latest 
days  of  ours  that  this  searching  after 
sincerity  should  seem  to  be  leading  us 
towards  a similar  revival ; taking  even 
very  much  the  same  forms.  We  went 
back,  at  the  time  of  the  Gothic  revival, 
to  the  forgotten  Gothic  art  of  stained- 
glass  ; now  tired,  as  it  would  seem,  of 
1 Paradise,  canto  vi.  i. 


24O 


the  insincerity  and  mere  spirit  of  imita- 
tion with  which  it  and  similar  arts  have 
been  practised,  a number  of  us  appear  to 
be  ready  to  throw  it  aside,  along  with 
scholarly  mouldings  and  traceries,  and 
build  our  arts  afresh  out  of  the  ground, 
as  was  done  by  the  Byzantines,  with  plain 
brickwork,  mosaic,  and  matched  slabs  of 
marble.  Definite  examples  in  recent  archi- 
tecture will  occur  to  the  reader.  But  I am 
thinking  less  of  these — which  for  the  most 
part  are  deliberate  and  scholastic  revivals 
of  a particular  style,  founded  on  the  study 
of  previous  examples  and  executed  on  rigid 
academic  methods — than  of  what  appears 
to  be  a widespread  awakening  to  principles 
of  simplicity,  sincerity,  and  common  sense 
in  the  arts  of  building  generally.  Signs 
are  not  wanting  of  a revived  interest  in 
building — a revived  interest  in  materials 
for  their  own  sake,  and  a revived  practice 
of  personally  working  in  them  and  ex- 
perimenting with  them.  One  calls  to 
mind  examples  of  these  things,  growing 
in  number  daily — plain  and  strong  fur- 
niture made  with  the  designer’s  own 
hands  and  without  machinery,  and  en- 
joyed in  the  making — made  for  actual 
places  and  personal  needs  and  tastes ; 

9 


Of  Archi- 
tectural 
F itness 


Of  Archi- 
tectural 
Fitness 


houses  built  in  the  same  spirit  by  archi- 
tects who  condescend  to  be  masons  also ; 
an  effort  here  and  an  effort  there  to  revive 
the  common  ways  of  building  that  used 
to  prevail — and  not  so  long  ago — for  the 
ordinary  housing  and  uses  of  country- 
folk and  country-life,  and  which  gave  us 
cottages,  barns,  and  sheds  throughout  the 
length  and  breadth  of  the  land  ; simple 
things  for  simple  needs,  built  by  simple 
men,  without  self-consciousness,  for  actual 
use  and  pleasant  dwelling ; traditional 
construction  and  the  habits  of  making 
belonging  to  the  country-side.  These 
still  linger  in  the  time-honoured  ways 
of  making  the  waggon  and  the  cart 
and  the  plough ; but  they  have  vanished 
from  architecture  and  building  except  in 
so  far  as  they  are  being  now,  as  I have 
said,  consciously  and  deliberately  revived 
by  men  who  are  going  back  from  academic 
methods,  to  found  their  arts  once  more 
upon  the  actual  making  of  things  with 
their  own  hand  and  as  their  hand  and 
materials  will  guide  them. 

This  was  what  happened  in  the  time 
to  which  I have  referred  : in  the  dawn 
of  the  Christian  era  and  of  a new  civilisa- 
tion ; and  it  has  special  interest  for  us  of 

242 


to-day,  because  it  was  not  a case  of  an 
infant  or  savage  race,  beginning  all  things 
from  seed ; but  the  revival,  as  in  Sparta, 
centuries  before  it,  of  simplicity  and 
sincerity  of  life,  in  the  midst  of  enerva- 
tion, luxury,  and  decay. 

This  seems  our  hope  for  the  future. 

There  has  already  gathered  together 
in  the  great  field  of  the  arts  of  to-day 
a little  Byzantium  of  the  crafts  setting 
itself  to  learn  from  the  beginning  how 
things  are  actually  made,  how  built, 
hammered,  painted,  cut,  stitched  ; casting 
aside  theories  and  academical  thought, 
and  founding  itself  upon  simplicity,  and 
sincerity,  and  materials.  And  the  architect 
who  condescends,  or,  as  we  should  rather 
say,  aspires,  to  be  a builder  and  a master- 
mason,  true  director  of  his  craft,  will,  if 
things  go  on  as  they  seem  now  going, 
find  in  the  near  future  a band  around 
him  of  other  workers  so  minded,  and 
will  have  'these  bright  tools  of  the  ac- 
cessory crafts  ready  to  his  hand.  This 
it  is,  if  anything,  that  will  solve  all  the 
vexed  questions  of  “ style,”  and  lead,  if 
anything  will,  to  the  art  of  the  times  to 
be.  For  the  reason  why  the  nineteenth 
century  complained  so  constantly  that  it 

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Of  Archi- 
tectural 
Fitness 


Of  Archi- 
tectural 
Fitness 


had  “ no  style  of  architecture  ” was  surely 
because  it  had  every  style  of  architecture, 
and  a race  of  architects  who  could  design 
in  every  style  because  they  could  build 
in  no  style ; knew  by  practical  handling 
and  tooling  nothing  of  the  real  natures 
and  capacities  of  stone  or  brick  or  wood 
or  glass ; received  no  criticism  from  their 
materials ; whereas  these  should  have 
daily  and  hourly  moulded  their  work 
and  formed  the  very  breath  of  its  life, 
warning  and  forbidding  on  the  one  hand, 
suggesting  on  the  other,  and  so  directing 
over  all. 

I have  thought  fit,  dear  student,  to 
touch  on  these  great  questions  in  passing, 
that  you  may  know  where  you  stand ; 
but  our  real  business  is  with  ourselves : 
to  make  ourselves  so  secure  upon  firm 
standing  ground,  in  our  own  particular 
province,  that  when  the  hour  arrives,  it 
may  find  in  us  the  man.  Let  us  there- 
fore return  again  from  these  bright  hopes 
to  consider  those  particular  details  of 
architectural  fitness  which  are  our  proper 
business  as  workers  in  glass. 

What,  then,  in  detail,  are  the  rules 
that  must  guide  us  in  placing  windows 
in  ancient  buildings?  But  first — may  we 

244 


place  windows  in  ancient  buildings  at  all  ? 
“No,”  say  some;  “because  we  have  no 
right  to  touch  the  past ; it  is  ‘ restoration,’ 
a word  that  has  covered,  in  the  past,”  they 
say  (and  we  must  agree  with  them),  “ a 
mass  of  artistic  crime  never  to  be  expiated, 
and  of  loss  never  to  be  repaired.”  “ Yes,” 
say  others,  “ because  new  churches  will  be 
older  in  half-an-hour— half-an-hour  older ; 
for  the  world  has  moved,  and  where  will 
you  draw  the  line  ? Also,  glass  has  to  be 
renewed , you  must  put  in  something,  or 
some  one  must.” 

Let  each  decide  the  question  for  him- 
self ; but,  supposing  you  admit  that  it  is 
permissible,  what  are  the  proper  restric- 
tions and  conditions  ? 

You  must  not  tell  a lie,  or  “ match  ” 
old  work,  joining  your  own  on  to  it  as 
if  itself  were  old. 

Shall  we  work  in  the  style  of  the  “ New 
art,”  then- — “ Part  Nouveau  ” ? the  style 
of  the  last  new  poster?  the  art-tree,  the 
art-bird,  the  art-squirm,  and  the  ace  of 
spades  form  of  ornament  ? 

Heaven  in  mercy  defend  us  and  forbid 
it ! 

Canopies  are  venerable  ; thirteenth-cen- 
tury panels  and  borders  are  venerable,  the 

245 


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Fitness 


Of  Archi- 
tectural 
Fitness 


great  traditional  vestments  are  so,  and 
liturgy,  and  symbolism,  and  ceremony. 
These  are  not  things  of  one  age  alone, 
but  belong  to  all  time.  Get,  wherever 
possible,  authority  on  all  these  points. 

Must  we  work  in  a “style,”  then— a 
“ Gothic  ” style  ? 

No. 

What  rule,  then  ? 

It  is  hard  to  formulate  so  as  to  cover 
all  questions,  but  something  thus : — 

Take  forms,  and  proportions,  and  scale 
from  the  style  of  the  church  you  are  to 
work  in. 

Add  your  own  feeling  to  it  from — 

(1)  The  feeling  of  the  day,  but  the 
best  and  most  reverent  feeling. 

(2)  From  Nature. 

s whole  conditioned 
the  knowledge  of 

craft. 

Finally,  let  us  say  that  you  must  con- 
sider each  case  on  its  merits,  and  be  ready 
even  sometimes  perhaps  to  admit  that  the 
old  white  glass  may  be  better  for  a certain 
position  than  your  new  glass  could  be, 
while  old  stained-glass , of  course,  should 
always  be  sacred  to  you,  a thing  to  be 
left  untouched.  Even  where  new  work 

246 


(3)  From  (and  t 
by)  materials  and 


seems  justifiable  and  to  be  demanded, 
proceed  as  if  treading  on  holy  ground. 
Do  not  try  crude  experiments  on  vener- 
able  and  beautiful  buildings,  but  be 
modest  and  reticent ; know  the  styles  of 
the  past  thoroughly  and  add  your  own 
fresh  feeling  to  them  reverently.  And 
in  thought  do  not  think  it  necessary  to 
be  novel  in  order  to  be  original.  There 
is  quite  enough  originality  in  making  a 
noble  figure  of  a saint,  or  treating  with 
reverent  and  dignified  art  some  actual 
theme  of  Scripture  or  tradition,  and 
working  into  its  detail  the  sweetness  of 
nature  and  the  skill  of  your  hands,  with- 
out going  into  eccentricity  for  the  sake 
of  novelty,  and  into  weak  allegory  to 
show  your  originality  and  independence, 
tired  with  the  world-old  truths  and  laws 
of  holy  life  and  noble  character.  And 
this  leads  us  to  the  point  where  we  must 
speak  of  these  deep  things  in  the  great 
province  of  thought. 


Of  Archi- 
tectural 
Fitness 


247 


CHAPTER  XVIII 


OF  THOUGHT,  IMAGINATION,  AND 
ALLEGORY 

Of  Thought,  “ The  first  thing  one  should  demand  of 
Imagination,  a man  who  calls  himself  an  artist  is  that 
*ncl  he  has  something  to  say , some  truth  to 

es°ry  teach , some  lesson  to  enforce . Don't  you 

think  so  ?" 

Thus  once  said  to  me  an  artist  of  re- 
spectable attainment. 

“ I don't  care  a hang  for  subject ; give  me 
good  colour , composition , fine  effects  of  light , 
skill  in  technique , that's  all  one  wants.  Don't 
you  think  so  ? ” 

Thus  once  said  to  me  a member  of 
a window- committee,  himself  also  an 
artist. 

To  both  I answered,  and  would  answer 
with  all  the  emphasis  possible — No  ! 

The  first  duty  of  an  artist,  as  of  every 
other  kind  of  worker,  is  to  know  his 
business ; and,  unless  he  knows  it,  all 
the  “truths”  he  wishes  to  “teach,”  and 
the  lessons  he  wishes  to  enforce,  are  but 

248 


degraded  and  discredited  in  the  eyes  of  Of  Thought 
men  by  his  bungling  advocacy.  Imagination 

On  the  other  hand,  the  artist  who  has  or 

trained  himself  to  speak  with  the  tongues 
of  angels  and  after  all  has  nothing  to  say, 
is  also,  to  me,  an  imperfect  being.  What 
follows  is  written,  as  the  whole  book  is 
written,  for  the  young  student,  just  be- 
ginning his  career  and  feeling  the  pres- 
sure  and  conflict  of  these  questions.  For 
such  I must  venture  to  discuss  points 
which  the  wise  and  the  experienced  may 
pass  by. 

The  present  day  is  deluged  with  alle- 
gory ; and  the  first  thing  three  students 
out  of  four  wish  to  attempt  when  they 
arrive  at  the  stage  of  original  art  is  the 
presentation,  by  figures  and  emblems,  of 
some  deep  abstract  truth,  some  problem 
of  the  great  battle  of  life,  some  force  of 
the  universe  that  they  begin  to  feel  around 
them,  pressing  upon  their  being.  Forty 
years  ago  such  a thing  was  hardly  heard 
of.  In  the  sketching-clubs  at  the  Aca- 
demies of  that  day,  the  historical,  the 
concrete,  or  the  respectably  pious  were  all 
that  one  ever  saw.  We  can  hardly  realise 
it,  the  art  of  the  late  sixties.  The  pre- 
Raphaelite  brotherhood,  as  such,  a thing 

249 


Of  Thought,  of  the  past,  and  seemingly  leaving  few 
Imagination,  imitators.  Burne-Jones  just  heard  of  as  a 
Allegory  strange>  unknown  artist,  who  wouldn’t  ex- 
hibit his  pictures,  but  who  had  done  some 
queer  new  kind  of  stained-glass  windows 
at  Lyndhurst,  which  one  might  perhaps 
be  curious  to  see  when  we  went  (as  of 
course  we  must)  to  worship  “ Leighton’s 
great  altar-piece.”  Nay,  ten  years  later, 
at  the  opening  of  the  Grosvenor  Gallery, 
the  new,  imaginative,  and  allegorical  art 
could  be  met  with  a large  measure  of 
derision,  and  Punch  could  write,  regarding 
it,  an  audacious  and  contemptuous  parody 
of  the  “ Palace  of  Art  ” ; while,  abroad, 
Botticelli’s  Primavera  hung  over  a door, 
and  the  attendants  at  the  Ujfizii  were 
puzzled  by  requests,  granted  grudgingly 
(if  granted),  to  have  his  other  pictures 
placed  for  copying  and  study ! Times 
have  altogether  changed,  and  we  now  see 
in  every  school  competition — often  set  as 
the  subject  of  such — abstract  and  allego- 
rical themes,  demanding  for  their  adequate 
expression  the  highest  and  deepest  thought 
and  the  noblest  mood  of  mind  and  views 
of  life. 

It  is  impossible  to  lay  down  any  hard 
and  fast  rule  about  these  things,  for  each 
250 


case  must  differ.  There  is  such  a thing  as  Of  Thought, 

genius , and  where  that  is  there  is  but  small  Imagination, 

question  of  rules  or  even  of  youth  or  age,  Ahe^or 

maturity  or  immaturity.  And  even  apart 

from  the  question  of  genius  the  mind  of 

childhood  is  a very  precious  thing,  and 

“the  thoughts  of  youth  are  long,  long 

thoughts.”  Nay,  the  mere  fact  of  youth 

with  its  trials,  is  a great  thing ; we  shall 

never  again  have  such  a chance,  such 

fresh,  responsive  hearts,  such  capacity  for 

feeling  — for  suffering  — that  school  of 

wisdom  and  source  of  inspiration  ! It  is 

well  to  record  its  lessons  while  they  are 

fresh,  to  jot  down  for  ourselves,  if  we 

can,  something  of  the  passing  hours  ; to 

store  up  their  thoughts  and  feelings  for 

future  expression  perhaps,  when  our 

powers  of  expression  have  grown  more 

worthy  of  them ; but  it  is  not  well  to 

try  to  make  universal  lessons  out  of,  or 

universal  applications  of,  what  we  haven’t 

ourselves  learned.  Our  own  proper 

lesson  at  this  time  is  to  learn  our 

trade ; to  strengthen  our  weak  hands 

and  train  the  ignorance  of  our  mind  to 

knowledge  day  by  day,  strenuously,  and 

only  spurred  on  by  the  deep  stirrings  of 

thought  and  life  within  us,  which  gener- 

251 


and 
Allegory 


Of  Thought,  ally  ought  to  remain  for  the  present 
Imagination,  unspoken. 

A great  point  of  happiness  in  this  dan- 
gerous and  critical  time  is  to  have  a 
definite  trade ; learnt  in  its  completeness 
and  practised  day  by  day,  step  by  step, 
upwards  from  its  elements,  in  constant 
subservience  to  wise  and  kind  master- 
ship. This  indeed  is  a golden  lot,  and 
one  rare  in  these  days ; and  perhaps  we 
must  not  look  to  be  so  shielded.  This 
was  the  sober  and  happy  craftsmanship  of 
the  Middle  Ages,  and  produced  for  us 
all  that  imagery  and  ornature,  instinct 
with  gaiety  and  simplicity  of  heart,  which 
decorates,  where  the  hand  of  the  ruthless 
restorer  has  spared  it,  the  churches  and 
cathedrals  of  Europe. 

But  in  these  changeful  days  it  would  be 
rash  indeed  to  forecast  where  lies  the 
sphere  of  duty  for  any  individual  life.  It 
may  lie  in  the  reconstruction  by  solitary, 
personal  experiment,  of  some  forgotten 
art  or  system,  the  quiet  laying  of  founda- 
tion for  the  future  rather  than  building 
the  monument  of  to-day.  Or  perhaps  the 
self-devoted  life  of  the  seer  may  be  the 
Age’s  chief  need,  and  it  is  not  a Giotto 
that  is  wanted  for  the  twentieth  century 
252 


but  a Dante  or  a Blake,  with  the  ac- 
companying destiny  of  having  to  prove 
as  they  did — 

“ si  come  sa  di  sale 
Lo  pane  altrui,  e com*£  duro  calle 
Lo  scendere  e’l  salir  per  Paltrui  scale.”  1 

But,  however  these  things  be,  whether 
working  happily  in  harmony  with  the 
scheme  of  things  around  us,  and  only  con- 
cerned to  give  it  full  expression,  or  not ; 
whether  we  are  the  fortunate  apprentices 
of  a well -taught  trade,  gaining  secure 
and  advancing  knowledge  day  by  day, 
or  whether  we  are  lonely  experimen- 
talists, wringing  the  secret  from  reluctant 
Nature  and  Art  upon  some  untrodden 
path  ; there  is  one  last  great  principle  that 
covers  all  conditions,  solves  all  questions, 
and  is  an  abiding  rock  which  remains, 
unfailing  foundation  on  which  all  may 
build ; and  that  is  the  constant  measuring 
of  our  smallness  against  the  greatness  of 
things,  a thing  which,  done  in  the  right 


“ how  tastes  of  salt 

The  bread  of  others,  and  how  is  hard  the  passage 
To  go  down  and  to  go  up  by  other’s  stairs.” 

— Paradise , xvii.  58. 

253 


Of  Thought, 
Imagination, 
and 

Allegory 


Of  Thought,  spirit,  does  not  daunt,  but  inspires.  For 
Imagination,  the  greatness  of  all  things  is  ours  for  the 

Alkgory  winning>  almost  for  the  asking. 

The  great  imaginative  poets  and  thinkers 
and  artists  of  the  mid-nineteenth  century 
have  drawn  aside  for  us  the  curtain  of 
the  world  behind  the  veil,  and  he  would 
be  an  ambitious  man  who  would  expect 
to  set  the  mark  higher,  in  type  of  beauty 
or  depth  of  feeling,  than  they  have  placed 
it  for  us ; but  all  must  hope  to  do  so, 
even  if  they  do  not  expect  it ; for  the 
great  themes  are  not  exhausted  or  ever 
to  be  exhausted  ; and  the  storehouse  of 
the  great  thought  and  action  of  the  past 
is  ever  open  to  us  to  clothe  our  naked- 
ness and  enrich  our  poverty ; we  need 
only  ask  to  have. 

“ Ah  ! ” said  Coningsby,  “ I should  like 
to  be  a great  man.” 

The  stranger  threw  at  him  a scrutinis- 
ing glance.  His  countenance  was  serious. 
He  said  in  a voice  of  almost  solemn 
melody — 

“ Nurture  your  mind  with  great 
thoughts.  To  believe  in  the  heroic 
makes  heroes.”  1 

All  the  great  thoughts  of  the  world 
1 Coningsby,  Book  iii.  ch.  i. 

254 


are  stored  up  in  books,  and  all  the  great  OfThought, 
books  of  the  world,  or  nearly  all,  have  Imagination, 
been  translated  into  English.  You  should  Allegory 
make  it  a systematic  part  of  your  life  to 
search  these  things  out  and,  if  only  by  a 
page  or  two,  try  how  far  they  fit  your  need. 

We  do  not  enough  realise  how  wide  a 
field  this  is,  how  great  an  undertaking, 
how  completely  unattainable  except  by 
carefully  husbanding  our  time  from  the 
start,  how  impossible  it  is  in  the  span  of 
a human  life  to  read  the  great  books 
unless  we  strictly  save  the  time  which  so 
many  spend  on  the  little  books.  Ruskin’s 
words  on  this  subject,  almost  harsh  in 
their  blunt  common  sense,  bring  the  matter 
home  so  well  that  I cannot  refrain  from 
quoting  them.1 

“Do  you  know,  if  you  read  this,  that  you 
cannot  read  that— that  what  you  lose  to- 
day you  cannot  gain  to-morrow  ? Will 
you  go  and  gossip  with  your  housemaid, 
or  your  stable-boy,  when  you  may  talk 
with  queens  and  kings ; or  flatter  your- 
selves that  it  is  with  any  worthy  conscious- 
ness of  your  own  claims  to  respect  that 
you  jostle  with  the  common  crowd  for 
entree  here,  and  audience  there,  when  all 
1 “ Sesame  and  Lilies,”  Lecture  I. 


255 


Of  Thought, 
Imagination, 
and 

Allegory 


the  while  this  eternal  court  is  open  to  you, 
with  its  society  wide  as  the  world,  multi- 
tudinous as  its  days,  the  chosen,  and  the 
mighty,  of  every  place  and  time  ? Into 
that  you  may  enter  always;  in  that  you 
may  take  fellowship  and  rank  according  to 
your  wish ; from  that,  once  entered  into 
it,  you  can  never  be  outcast  but  by  your 
own  fault ; by  your  aristocracy  of  com- 
panionship there,  your  own  inherent  aris- 
tocracy will  be  assuredly  tested,  and  the 
motives  with  which  you  strive  to  take 
high  place  in  the  society  of  the  living, 
measured,  as  to  all  the  truth  and  sincerity 
that  are  in  them,  by  the  place  you  desire 
to  take  in  this  company  of  the  Dead.” 
This  is  the  great  world  of  books  that 
is  open  to  you ; and  how  shall  you  find 
your  way  in  it,  in  these  days,  amongst  the 
plethora  of  the  second  and  third  and 
fourth  rate,  shouting  out  at  you  and  be- 
sieging your  attention  on  every  stall  ? It 
is  no  more  possible  to  give  you  entire 
guidance  towards  this  than  to  give  com- 
plete advice  on  any  other  problem  of  life ; 
your  own  nature  must  be  your  guide, 
choosing  the  good  and  refusing  the  evil 
in  the  degree  in  which  itself  is  good  or 
evil.  But  one  may  name  some  landmarks, 


set  up  some  guide-posts,  and  the  best  of  all  Of  Thought, 
guidance  surely  is  not  that  of  a guide-post,  Imagination, 
but  that  of  a guide,  a kindly  hand  of  one  Allegor 
who  knows  the  way,  to  take  your  hand. 

Do  you  ask  for  such  a guide  ? A man 
of  our  own  day,  in  full  view  of  all  its 
questions  from  the  loftiest  to  the  least, 
and  heart  and  soul  engaged  in  them,  with 
deep  and  sympathetic  wisdom  born  of  his 
own  companionship  with  all  the  great 
thoughts  of  the  ages  ? One  surely  need 
not  hesitate  a moment  in  naming  as  the 
one  for  our  special  needs  the  writer  we 
have  just  quoted. 

Scattered  up  and  down  the  whole  of 
his  works  is  constant  reference  to  and 
commentary  upon  the  great  themes  of 
all  ages,  the  great  creeds  of  all  peoples. 

“Queen  of  the  Air,”  “Aratra  Pente- 
lici,”  “Ariadne  Florentina,”  “The  Morn- 
ings in  Florence,”  “ St.  Mark’s  Rest,” 

“ The  Oxford  Inaugural  Lectures,”  “ The 
Bible  of  Amiens,”  “Fors  Clavigera.” 

With  these  as  portals  you  can  enter  by 
easy  steps  into  the  whole  universe  of 
great  things : the  divine  myth  and  sym 
bolism  of  the  old  pagan  world  (as  we  call 
it)  and  of  more  recent  Christendom ; all 
the  makers  of  ancient  Greece  and  Italy 
r 257  ' 


Of  Thought,  and  of  our  own  England;  worship  and 
Imagination,  kingship  and  leadership,  and  the  high 
^nd  thought  and  noble  deed  of  all  times. 

§ y And  clustering  in  groups  round  these 
centres  is  the  world  of  books.  All  Theo- 
logy, Philosophy,  Poetry,  Sacred  History  ; 
Homer,  Plato,  Virgil,  the  Bible,  and  the 
Breviary.  The  great  doctors  and  saints, 
kings  and  heroes,  poets  and  painters, 
Gerome  and  Dominic  and  Francis ; St. 
Louis  and  Coeur  - de  - Lion  ; Dante,  St. 
Jerome,  Chaucer,  and  Froissart ; Bot- 
ticelli, Giotto,  Angelico ; the  “ Golden 
Legend  ” ; and  many  another  ancient  or 
modern  legend  and  story  or  passage  from 
the  history  of  some  great  and  splendid 
life,  or  illuminating  hint  upon  the  beauties 
of  liturgy  and  symbolism.  They,  and  a 
hundred  other  things,  are  all  gathered  up 
and  introduced  to  us  in  Ruskin’s  books ; 
and  we  are  shown  them  from  the  exact 
standpoint  from  which  they  are  most 
likely  to  appeal  to  us,  and  be  of  use. 
There  never  was  a great  world  made 
so  easy  and  pleasant  of  entrance  for  the 
adventuring  traveller ; you  have  only  to 
enter  and  take  possession. 

Do  you  incline  towards  myth  and  sym- 
bolism and  allegory  — the  expression  of 
258 


abstract  thought  by  beautiful  figures  ? 
Read  the  myths  of  Greece  expounded  to 
you  in  their  exquisite  spirituality  in  the 
“ Queen  of  the  Air.”  Or  is  your  bent 
devotion  and  the  devout  life,  expressed 
in  thrilling  story  and  gorgeous  colour  ? 
Read,  say,  the  life  of  St.  Catherine  or 
of  St.  George  in  the  “ Golden  Legend.” 
Or  are  you  in  love,  and  would  express 
its  spring-time  beauty?  Translate  into 
your  own  native  language  of  form  and 
colour  “The  Romaunt  of  the  Rose.” 

For  the  great  safeguard  and  guide  in  the 
perilous  forest  of  fancy  is  to  find  enough 
interest  in  the  actual  facts  of  some  history 
or  the  qualities  of  some  heroic  character, 
whether  real  or  fabled,  round  which  at 
first  you  may  group  your  thought  and 
allegory.  Listen  to  them , and  try  to 
formulate  and  illustrate  their  meaning, 
not  to  announce  your  own.  Do  not  set 
puzzles,  or  set  things  that  will  be  puzzling, 
without  the  highest  and  deepest  reasons 
and  the  apostleship  urgently  laid  upon 
you  so  to  do — but  let  your  allegory  sur- 
round some  definite  subject,  so  that  men 
in  general  can  see  it  and  say,  “ Yes,  that 
is  so  and  so,”  and  go  away  satisfied  rather 
than  puzzled  and  affronted ; leaving  the 

259 


Of  Thought, 
Imagination, 
and 

Allegory 


Of  Thought, 
Imagination, 
and 

Allegory 


inner  few  for  whom  you  really  speak,  the 
hearts  that,  you  hope,  are  waiting  for  your 
message,  to  find  it  out  (and  you  need  have 
no  fear  that  they  will  do  so),  and  to  say, 
“ Yes,  that  means  so  and  so,  and  it  is  a 
good  thought.” 

For,  remember  always  that,  even  if  you 
conceive  that  you  have  a mission  laid  upon 
you  to  declare  Truth,  it  is  most  sternly 
conditioned  by  an  obligation,  as  binding 
as  itself  and  of  as  high  authority,  to  set 
forth  Beauty : the  holiness  of  beauty 

equally  with  the  beauty  of  holiness.  No 
amount  of  good  intent  can  make  up  for 
lack  of  skill ; it  is  your  business  to  know 
your  business.  Youth  always  would  begin 
with  allegory,  but  the  ambition  of  the  good 
intention  is  generally  in  exactly  the  reverse 
proportion  to  the  ability  to  carry  it  out  in 
expression.  But  the  true  allegory  that  ap- 
peals to  all  is  the  presentment  of  noble 
natures  and  of  noble  deeds.  Where,  for 
most  people  at  any  rate,  is  the  “ allegory  ” 
in  the  Theseus  or  the  Venus  of  Milo  ? 
Yet  is  not  the  whole  race  of  man  the 
better  for  them  ? 

Work,  therefore,  quietly  and  continu- 
ally at  the  great  themes  ready  set  for  you 
in  the  story  of  the  past  and  “ understanded 

260 


of  the  people,”  while  you  are  patiently 
strengthening  and  maturing  your  powers 
of  art  in  safety,  sheltered  from  yourself, 
and  sheltered  from  the  condemnation  due 
to  the  too  presumptuous  assumption  of 
apostleship.  For  it  is  one  thing  to  stand 
forth  and  say,  “ / have  a message  to  deliver 
to  the  world,”  and  quite  another  to  say, 
“ There  is  such  a message,  and  it  has  fallen 
to  me  to  be  its  mouthpiece ; woe  is  me, 
because  I am  a man  of  unclean  lips.”  It 
is  needless,  therefore — nay,  it  is  harmful 
— to  be  always  breaking  your  heart  against 
tasks  beyond  your  strength.  Work  in 
some  little  province  ; get  foothold  and 
grow  outwards  from  it ; go  on  from 
weakness  to  strength,  and  then  from 
strength  to  the  stronger,  doing  the  things 
you  can  do  while  you  practise  towards  the 
things  you  hope  to  do,  and  illustrating  im- 
personal themes  until  the  time  comes  for 
you  to  try  your  own  individual  battle  in 
the  great  world  of  thought  and  feeling  ; 
till,  mature  in  strength  equal  to  the  por- 
trayal of  great  natures,  the  Angels  of  God 
as  shown  forth  by  you  may  be  recog- 
nised as  indeed  Spirit,  and  His  Ministers  as 
flaming  Fire. 

There  is  even  yet  one  last  word,  and 

261 


Of  Thought, 
Imagination, 
and 

Allegory 


Of  Thought,  that  is,  in  all  the  minor  symbolism  sur- 
Imagmation,  rounding  your  subjects,  to  observe  a due 
A1|nd  proportion.  For  you  may  easily  be  tempted 
to  allow  some  beautiful  little  fancy,  not 
essential  to  the  subject,  to  find  expression 
in  a form  or  symbol  that  will  thrust 
itself  unduly  on  the  attention,  and  will 
only  puzzle  and  distract. 

Never  let  little  things  come  first,  and 
never  let  them  be  allowed  at  all  to  the 
damage,  or  impairing,  or  obscuring  of  the 
simplicity  and  dignity  of  the  great  things; 
remembering  always  that  the  first  function 
of  a window  is  to  have  stately  and  seemly 
figures  in  beautiful  glass,  and  not  to  arrest 
or  distract  the  attention  of  the  specta- 
tor with  puzzles.  Given  the  great  themes 
adequately  expressed,  the  little  fancies  may 
then  cluster  round  them  and  will  be 
carried  lightly,  as  the  victor  wears  his 
wreath  ; while,  on  the  other  hand,  if  these 
be  lacking  no  amount  of  symbolism  or  at- 
tribute will  supply  their  place.  “ Cucullus 
non  facit  monachum ,”  as  the  old  proverb 
says — “ It  is  not  the  hood  that  makes 
the  monk,”  but  the  ascetic  face  you  depict 
within  it.  Indeed,  rather  beware  of  trust- 
ing even  to  the  ordinary,  well-recognised 
symbols  in  common  use,  and  being  misled 
262 


by  them  to  think  you  have  done  some- 
thing you  have  not  done;  and  rather 
withhold  these  until  the  other  be  made 
sure.  Get  your  figures  dignified  and  your 
faces  beautiful ; show  the  majesty  or  the 
sanctity  that  you  are  aiming  at  in  these 
alone,  and  your  saint  will  be  recognised 
as  saintly  without  his  halo  of  glory,  and 
your  angel  as  angelic  without  his  tongue 
of  flame. 

In  my  own  practice,  when  drawing  from 
the  life,  I make  a great  point  of  keeping 
back  all  these  ornaments  and  symbols  of 
attribute,  until  I feel  that  my  figure  alone 
expresses  itself  fully,  as  far  as  my  powers 
go,  without  them.  No  ornament  upon 
the  robe,  or  the  crosier,  or  the  sword ; 
above  all,  no  circle  round  the  head,  until 
— the  figure  standing  out  at  last  and 
seeming  to  represent,  as  near  as  may  be, 
the  true  pastor  or  warrior  it  claims  to  re- 
present— the  moment  arrives  when  I say, 
“Yes,  I have  done  all  I can, — now  he  may 
have  his  nimbus  ! ” 


Of  Thought, 
Imagination, 
and 

Allegory 


263 


CHAPTER  XIX 


Of  General 
Conduct 
and  Pro- 
cedure 


Of  General  Conduct  and  Procedure — -Amount  of 
Legitimate  Assistance — The  Ordinary  Practice 
— The  Great  Rule — The  Second  Great  Rule — 
Four  Things  to  Observe — Art<u.  Routine — The 
Truth  of  the  Case — The  Penalty  of  Virtue  in 
the  Matter  — The  Compensating  Privilege — 
Practical  Applications — An  Economy  of  Time 
in  the  Studio — Industry — Work  “To  Order ” 
— Clients  and  Patrons — And  Requests  Reason- 
able and  Unreasonable — The  Chief  Difficulty  the 
Chief  Opportunity — But  ascertain  all  Conditions 
before  starting  Work — Business  Habits — Order 
— Accuracy — Setting  out  Cartoon  Forms — An 
Artist  must  Dream — But  Wake — Three  Plain 
Rules. 


Having  now  described,  as  well  as  I can, 
the  whole  of  your  equipment- — of  hand, 
and  head,  and  heart — your  mental  and 
technical  weapons  for  the  practice  of 
stained-glass,  there  now  follow  a few 
simple  hints  to  guide  you  in  the  use  of 
them ; how  best  to  dispose  your  forces, 
and  on  what  to  employ  them.  This  must 
be  a very  broken  and  fragmentary  chapter, 
full  of  little  everyday  matters,  very  differ- 
ent to  the  high  themes  we  have  just  been 
trying  to  discuss — and  relating  chiefly  to 
264 


your  conduct  of  the  thing  as  a business, 
and  your  relationships  with  the  interests 
that  surround  you ; modes  of  procedure, 
business  hints,  practical  matters.  I am 
sorry,  just  as  you  were  beginning  (I  hope) 
to  be  warmed  to  the  subject,  and  fired 
with  the  high  ambitions  that  it  suggests, 
to  take  and  toss  you  into  the  cold  world 
of  matter-of-fact  things ; but  that  is  life, 
and  we  have  to  face  it.  Open  the  door 
into  the  cold  air  and  let  us  bang  at  it 
straight  away ! 

Now  there  is  one  great  and  plain  ques- 
tion that  contains  all  the  rest ; you  do 
not  see  it  now,  but  you  will  find  it  facing 
you  before  you  have  gone  very  far.  The 
great  question,  “ Must  I do  it  all  myself, 
or  may  I train  pupils  and  assistants  ? ” 

Let  us  first  amplify  the  question  and 
get  it  fairly  and  fully  stated.  Then  we 
shall  have  a better  chance  of  being  able 
to  answer  it  wisely. 

I have  described  or  implied  elsewhere 
the  usual  practice  in  the  matter  amongst 
those  who  produce  stained-glass  on  a 
large  scale.  In  great  establishments  the 
work  is  divided  up  into  branches  : de- 
signers, cartoonists,  painters,  cutters,  lead- 
workers,  kiln-men  : none  of  whom,  as  a 

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rule,  know  any  branch  of  the  work  except 
their  own. 

Obviously  one  of  the  principal  conten- 
tions of  this  book  is  against  the  idea  that 
such  division,  as  practised,  is  an  ideal 
method. 

On  the  other  hand,  you  will  gather  that 
the  writer  himself  uses  the  service  of 
assistants. 

While  in  the  plates  at  the  end  are 
examples  of  glass  where  everything  has 
been  done  by  the  artists  themselves 
(Plates  I.,  II.,  III.,  IV.,  VII.). 

1 must  freely  confess  that  when  I first 
saw  in  the  work  of  these  men  the  beauty 
resulting  from  the  personal  touch  of  the 
artist  on  the  whole  of  the  cutting  and 
leading,  a qualm  of  doubt  arose  whether 
the  practice  of  admitting  any  other  hand 
to  my  assistance  was  not  a compromise  to 
some  extent  with  absolute  ideal ; whether 
it  were  not  the  only  right  plan,  after  all, 
to  do  the  whole  oneself ; to  sit  down 
to  the  bench  with  one’s  drawing,  and 
pick  out  the  glass,  piece  by  piece,  on  its 
merits,  carefully  considering  each  bit  as 
it  passed  through  hand ; cutting  it  and 
trimming  it  affectionately  to  preserve  its 
beauties,  and,  later,  leading  it  into  its 

2 66 


place  with  thicker  or  thinner  lead,  in  the 
same  careful  spirit.  But  I do  not  think 
so.  I fancy  the  truth  to  be  that  the 
whole  business  should  be  opened  up  to  all, 
and  afterwards  each  should  gravitate  to 
his  place  by  natural  fitness.  For  the  car- 
toonist once  having  the  whole  craft  requires 
more,  constant  practice  in  drawing  to 
keep  himself  a good  cartoonist  than  he 
would  get  if  he  also  did  all  the  other 
work  of  each  window ; quantity  being  in 
this  matter  even  essential  to  quality.  I 
think  we  must  look  for  more  monumental 
figures,  achieved  by  the  delegation  of 
minor  craft  matters,  in  short,  by  co-opera- 
tion. Nevertheless,  I have  never  felt  less 
certainty  in  pronouncing  on  any  question 
of  my  craft  than  in  this  particular  matter; 
whether,  to  get  the  best  attainable  results, 
one  should  do  the  whole  of  the  work  one- 
self. On  the  other  hand,  I never  felt  more 
certainty  in  pronouncing  on  any  question 
of  the  craft,  than  now  in  laying  down  as 
an  absolute  rule  and  condition  of  doing 
good  work  at  all : that  one  should  be 
able  to  do  the  whole  of  the  work  oneself. 
That  is  the  key  to  the  whole  situation, 
but  it  is  not  the  whole  key  ; for  follow- 
ing close  upon  it  comes  the  rule  that 

267 


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springs  naturally  out  of  it ; that,  being  a 
master  oneself,  one  must  make  it  one’s 
object  to  train  all  assistants  towards 
mastership  also  : to  give  them  the  whole 
ladder  to  climb.  This  at  least  has  been 
the  case  with  the  work  of  my  own  which 
is  shown  in  the  other  collotypes.  There 
has  been  assistance,  but  every  one  of  those 
assisting  has  had  the  opportunity  to  learn 
to  make,  and  according  to  the  degree  of 
his  talent  is  actually  able  to  make,  the 
whole  of  a stained-glass  window  himself. 
There  is  not  a touch  of  painting  on  any 
of  the  panels  shown  which  is  not  by  a hand 
that  can  also  cut  and  lead  and  design  and 
draw,  and  perform  all  the  other  offices 
pertaining  to  stained-glass  noted  in  the 
foregoing  pages. 

Speaking  generally,  I care  not  whether 
a man  calls  himself  Brown,  or  Brown  and 
Co.,  or,  co-operating  with  others,  works 
under  the  style  of  Brown,  Jones  and 
Robinson,  so  long  as  he  observe  four 
things. 

(1)  Not  to  direct  what  he  cannot 
practise ; 

(2)  To  make  masters  of  apprentices,  or 
aim  at  making  them ; 

(3)  To  keep  his  hand  of  mastery  over 

268 


the  whole  work  personally  at  all  stages  ; 
and 

(4)  To  be  prepared  sometimes  to  make 
sacrifices  of  profit  for  the  sake  of  the  Art, 
should  the  interests  of  the  two  clash. 

Such  an  one  we  must  call  an  artist,  a 
master,  and  a worthy  craftsman.  It  is 
almost  impossible  to  describe  the  deaden- 
ing influence  which  a routine  embodying 
the  reverse  of  these  four  things  has  upon 
the  mind  of  those  who  should  be  artists. 
Under  this  influence  not  only  is  the  sub- 
division of  labour  which  places  each  succes- 
sive operation  in  separate  hands  accepted 
as  a matter  of  course,  but  into  each  opera- 
tion itself  this  separation  imports  a spirit 
of  lassitude  and  dulness  and  compliance 
with  false  conditions  and  limited  aims 
which  would  seem  almost  incredible  in 
those  practising  what  should  be  an  inspir- 
ing art.  To  men  so  trained,  so  employed, 
all  counsels  of  perfection  are  foolishness ; 
all  idea  of  tentative  work,  experiment, 
modification  while  in  progress,  is  looked 
upon  as  mere  delusion.  To  them  work 
consists  of  a series  of  never-varied  formulas, 
all  fitting  into  each  other  and  combined  to 
aim  at  producing  a definite  result,  the  like 
of  which  they  have  produced  a thousand 

269 


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times  before  and  will  produce  a thousand 
times  again. 

“With  us,”  once  said,  to  a friend  of 
the  writer,  a man  so  trained,  “ it’s  a matter 
of  judgment  and  experience.  It’s  all  non- 
sense this  talk  about  seeing  work  at  a 
distance  and  against  the  sky,  and  so  forth, 
while  as  to  the  ever  taking  it  down  again 
for  re-touching  after  once  erecting  it,  that 
could  only  be  done  by  an  amateur.  We 
paint  a good  deal  of  the  work  on  the 
bench,  and  never  see  it  as  a whole  until 
it’s  leaded  up  ; but  then  we  know  what 
we  want  and  get  it.” 

“ We  know  what  we  want ! ” To  what 
a pass  have  we  come  that  such  a thing 
could  be  spoken  by  any  one  engaged 
in  the  arts ! Were  it  wholly  and  uni- 
versally true,  nothing  more  would  be 
needed  in  condemnation  of  wide  fields 
of  modern  practice  in  the  architectural 
and  applied  arts,  for,  most  assuredly  it 
is  a sentence  that  could  never  be  spoken 
of  any  one  worthy  of  the  name  of  artist 
that  ever  lived.  Whence  would  you  like 
instances  quoted  ? Literature  ? Painting  ? 
Sculpture?  Music?  Their  name  is  legion  in 
the  history  of  all  these  arts,  and  in  the  lives 
of  the  great  men  who  wrought  in  them. 
270 


For  a taste — 

Did  Michael  Angelo  “ know  what  he 
wanted”  when,  half-way  through  his  figure, 
he  found  the  block  not  large  enough,  and 
had  to  make  the  limb  too  short? 

Did  Beethoven  know,  when  he  evolved 
a movement  in  one  of  his  concerted  pieces 
out  of  a quarrel  with  his  landlady?  and 
another,  “ from  singing  or  rather  roaring 
up  and  down  the  scale,”  until  at  last  he 
said,  “ I think  I have  found  a motive  ” — - 
as  one  of  his  biographers  relates  ? Tenny- 
son, when  he  corrected  and  re-corrected  his 
poems  from  youth  to  his  death  ? Dtirer, 
the  precise,  the  perfect,  able  to  say,  “ It 
cannot  be  better  done,”  yet  re-engraving  a 
portion  of  his  best-known  plate,  and  frankly 
leaving  the  rejected  portion  half  erased  ? 1 
Titian,  whose  custom  it  was  to  lay  aside 
his  pictures  for  long  periods  and  then 
criticise  them,  imagining  that  he  was 
looking  at  them  “with  the  eyes  of  his 
worst  enemy”? 

There  is  not,  I suppose,  in  the  English 
language  a more  “ perfect  ” poem  than 
“ Lycidas.”  It  purports  to  have  been 
written  in  a single  day,  and  its  wholeness 
and  unity  and  crystalline  completeness 

1 “Ariadne  Florentina,”  p.  31. 

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and  Pro- 
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Of  General  give  good  colour  to  the  thought  that  it 

Conduct  probably  was  so. 
and  Pro-  * 

cedure  « Thus  sang  the  uncouth  swain  to  the  oaks  and  rills, 
While  the  still  morn  went  out  with  sandals  gray; 

He  touched  the  tender  stops  of  various  quills, 

With  eager  thought  warbling  his  Doric  lay : 

And  now  the  sun  had  stretched  out  all  the  hills, 
And  now  was  dropt  into  the  western  bay : 

At  last  he  rose,  and  twitched  his  mantle  blue ; 

To-morrow,  to  fresh  woods  and  pastures  new.” 

Yet,  regarding  it,  the  delightful  Charles 
Lamb  writes  : 1 — 

“I  had  thought  of  the  Lycidas  as  of  a 
full-grown  beauty, — as  springing  with  all 
its  parts  absolute, — till,  in  evil  hour,  I was 
shown  the  original  copy  of  it,  together 
with  the  other  minor  poems  of  its  author, 
in  the  library  of  Trinity,  kept  like  some- 
thing to  be  proud  of.  I wish  they  had 
thrown  them  in  the  Cam,  or  sent  them, 
after  the  later  cantos  of  Spenser,  into  the 
Irish  Channel.  How  it  staggered  me  to 
see  the  fine  things  in  their  ore ! — inter- 
lined, corrected,  as  if  their  words  were 
mortal,  alterable,  displaceable  at  pleasure  ; 
as  if  they  might  have  been  otherwise,  and 
just  as  good  ; as  if  inspiration  were  made 
up  of  parts,  and  those  fluctuating,  succes- 

1 “A  Saturday’s  Dinner.” 


272 


sive,  indifferent ! I will  never  go  into  the 
workshop  of  any  great  artist  again,  nor 
desire  a sight  of  his  picture,  till  it  is 
fairly  off  the  easel ; no,  not  if  Raphael 
were  to  be  alive  again,  and  painting 
another  Galatea.” 

But  the  real  truth  of  the  case  is  that 
whatever  “ inspiration  ” may  be,  and 
whether  or  not  “ made  up  of  parts,”  it, 
or  man’s  spirit  and  will  in  all  works  of 
art,  has  to  deal  with  things  so  made  up ; 
and  not  only  so,  but  also  as  described  by 
the  other  words  here  chosen  : fluctuating, 
successive , and  indifferent . You  have  to 
deal  with  the  whole  sum  of  things  all 
at  once ; the  possible  material  crowds 
around  the  artist’s  will,  shifting,  chang- 
ing,  presenting  at  all  stages  and  in  all 
details  of  a work  of  art,  infinite  and  con- 
tinual choice.  “ Nothing,”  we  are  told, 
“ is  single,”  but  all  things  have  relations 
with  each  other.  How  much  more, 
then,  is  it  true  that  every  bit  of  glass 
in  a window  is  the  centre  of  such  rela- 
tions with  its  brother  and  sister  pieces, 
and  that  nothing  is  final  until  all  is 
finished  ? A work  of  art  is  like  a battle  ; 
conflict  after  conflict,  manoeuvre  after 
manoeuvre,  combination  after  combina- 
$ * 273 


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tion.  The  general  does  not  pin  himself 
down  from  the  outset  to  one  plan  of 
tactics,  but  watches  the  field  and  moulds 
its  issues  to  his  will,  according  to  the 
yielding  or  the  resistance  of  the  opposing 
forces,  keeping  all  things  solvent  until 
the  combinations  of  the  strife  have  woven 
together  into  a soluble  problem,  upon 
which  he  can  launch  the  final  charge  that 
shall  bring  him  back  with  victory. 

So  also  is  all  art,  and  you  must  hold  all 
things  in  suspense.  Aye ! the  last  touch 
more  or  less  of  light  or  shade  or  colour 
upon  the  smallest  piece,  keeping  all  open 
and  solvent  to  the  last,  until  the  whole 
thing  rushes  together  and  fuses  into  a 
harmony.  It  is  not  to  be  done  by  “judg- 
ment and  experience,”  for  all  things  are 
new,  and  there  are  no  two  tasks  the  same; 
and  it  is  impossible  for  you  from  the  out- 
set to  “ know  what  you  want,”  or  to  know 
it  at  any  stage  until  you  can  say  that  the 
whole  work  is  finished. 

“ But  if  we  work  on  these  methods  we 
shall  only  get  such  a small  quantity  of 
work  done,  and  it  will  be  so  costly  done 
on  a system  like  that  you  speak  of ! 
Make  my  assistants  masters,  and  so  rivals! 
put  a window  in,  and  take  it  out  again, 
274 


forsooth  ! ” What  remedy  or  answer  for 
this  ? 

Well — setting  aside  the  question  of  the 
more  or  less  genius — there  are  only  two 
solutions  that  I can  see : — an  increase  in 
industry  or  a possible  decrease  in  profit, 
though  much  may  be  accomplished  in 
mitigation  of  these  hard  conditions,  if  they 
prove  too  hard,  by  a good  and  economical 
system  of  work,  and  by  time-saving  appli- 
ances and  methods. 

But,  after  all,  you  were  not  looking  out 
for  an  easy  task,  were  you,  in  this  world 
of  stress  and  strain  to  have  the  privi- 
leges of  an  artist’s  life  without  its 
penalties  ? Why,  look  you,  you  must 
remember  that  besides  the  business  of 
“saving  your  soul,”  which  you  may  share 
in  common  with  every  one  else,  you  have 
the  special  privilege  of  enjoying  for  its  own 
sake  your  personal  work  in  the  world. 

And  you  must  expect  to  pay  for  that 
privilege  at  some  corresponding  personal 
cost ; all  the  more  so  in  these  days  when 
your  lot  is  so  exceptional  a fortune, 
and  when  to  enjoy  daily  work  falls 
to  so  few.  Nevertheless,  when  I say 
“enjoy”  I do  not  mean  that  art  is  easy 
or  pleasant  in  the  way  that  ease  is  pleasant ; 

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there  is  nothing  harder ; and  the  better 
the  artist,  probably  the  harder  it  is.  But 
you  enjoy  it  because  of  its  privileges ; 
because  beauty  is  delightful ; because  you 
know  that  good  art  does  high  and  un- 
questioned service  to  man,  and  is  even 
one  of  the  ways  for  the  advancing  of  the 
kingdom  of  God. 

That  should  be  pleasure  enough  for 
any  one,  and  compensation  for  any  pains. 
You  must  learn  the  secret  of  human 
suffering — and  you  can  only  learn  it  by 
tasting  it — because  it  is  yours  to  point 
its  meaning  to  others  and  to  give  the 
message  of  hope. 

In  this  spirit,  then,  and  within  these 
limitations,  must  you  guide  your  own 
work  and  claim  the  co-operation  of  others, 
and  arrange  your  relationships  with  them, 
and  the  limits  of  their  assistance  and  your 
whole  personal  conduct  and  course  of 
procedure  : — 

To  be  yourself  a master. 

To  train  others  up  to  mastery. 

To  keep  your  hand  over  the  whole. 

To  work  in  a spirit  of  sacrifice. 

These  things  once  firmly  established, 
questions  of  procedure  become  simple. 
But  a few  detached  hints  may  be  given. 
276 


I shall  string  them  together  just  as  they 
come. 

An  Economy  of  Time  in  the  Studio. — Have 
a portion  of  your  studio  or  work-room 
wall  lined  with  thin  boarding — “ picture- 
backing ” of  -J-  inch  thick  is  enough,  and 
this  is  to  pin  things  on  to.  The  cartoon 
is  what  you  are  busy  upon,  but  you  must 
“ think  in  glass  ” all  the  time  you  are 
drawing  it.  Have  therefore,  pinned  up, 
a number  of  slips  of  paper — a foolscap 
half-sheet  divided  vertically  into  two  long 
strips  I find  best. 

On  these  write  down  every  direction 
to  the  cutter,  or  the  painter,  or  the 
designer  of  minor  ornament,  the  moment 
it  comes  into  your  mind , as  you  work  at 
the  charcoal  drawing.  If  you  once  let 
the  moment  pass  you  will  never  remember 
these  things  again,  but  you  will  have  them 
constantly  forced  back  upon  your  memory, 
by  the  mistranslations  of  your  intention 
which  will  face  you  when  you  first  see  your 
work  in  the  glass.  This  practice  is  a huge 
saving  of  time — and  of  disappointment. 
But  you  also  want  this  convenient  wall 
space  for  a dozen  other  needs  ; for  tracings 
and  shiftings  of  parts,  and  all  sorts  of 
essays  and  suggestions  for  alteration. 

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That  we  should  work  always.— I hope  it 
is  not  necessary  to  urge  the  importance  of 
work.  It  is  not  of  much  use  to  work 
only  when  we  feel  inclined ; many  people 
very  seldom  do  feel  naturally  inclined. 
Perhaps  there  are  few  things  so  sweet  as 
the  triumph  of  working  through  disinclina- 
tion till  it  is  leavened  through  with  the 
will  and  becomes  enjoyment  by  becoming 
conquest.  To  work  through  the  dead 
three  o’clock  period  on  a July  afternoon 
with  an  ache  in  the  small  of  one’s  back 
and  one’s  limbs  all  a-jerk  with  nervous- 
ness, drooping  eyelids,  and  a general  in- 
clination to  scream.  At  such  a time,  I 
fear,  one  sometimes  falls  back  on  rather 
low  and  sordid  motives  to  act  as  a spur  to 
the  lethargic  will.  I think  of  the  short- 
ness of  the  time,  the  greatness  of  the  task, 
but  also  of  all  those  hosts  of  others  who, 
if  I lag,  must  pass  me  in  the  race.  Not 
of  actual  rivals — or  good  nature  and  sense 
of  comradeship  would  always  break  the 
vision — -but  of  possible  and  unknown  ones 
whom  it  is  my  habit  to  club  all  together 
and  typify  under  the  style  and  title  of 
“that  fellow  Jones.”  And  at  such  a time 
it  is  my  habit  to  say  or  think,  “ Aha  ! I 
bet  Jones  is  on  his  back  under  a plane 
278 


1 


tree  ! ” — or  thoughts  to  that  effect — and 
grasp  the  charcoal  firmer. 

It  is  habits  and  dodges  and  ways  of 
thinking  such  as  these  that  will  gradually 
cultivate  in  you  the  ability  to  “ stand  and 
deliver,”  as  they  say  in  the  decorative  arts. 
For,  speaking  now  to  the  amateur  (if  any 
such,  picture-painter  or  student,  are  hesi- 
tating on  the  brink  of  an  art  new  to  them), 
you  must  know  that  these  arts  are  not 
like  picture-painting,  where  you  can  choose 
your  own  times  and  seasons : they  are  al- 
ways done  to  definite  order  and  expected 
in  a definite  time  ; and  that  brings  me  to 
speak  of  the  very  important  subject  of 
“ Clients.” 

Of  Clients  and  Patrons.  — It  must,  of 
course,  be  left  to  each  one  to  establish 
his  own  relations  with  those  who  ask 
work  of  him ; but  a few  hints  may  be 
given. 

You  will  get  many  requests  that  will 
seem  to  you  unreasonable  and  impossible 
of  carrying  out — some  no  doubt  will  really 
be  so ; but  at  least  consider  them.  Re- 
member what  we  said  a little  way  back— 
not  to  be  set  on  your  own  allegory,  but  to 
accept  your  subject  from  outside  and  add 
your  poetic  thought  to  it.  And  also  what 

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in  another  place  we  said  about  keeping  all 
“ solvent  ” — so  do  with  actual  suggestion  of 
subject  and  with  the  wishes  of  your  client : 
treat  the  whole  thing  as  “ raw  material/’ 
and  all  surrounding  questions  as  factors  in 
one  general  problem.  Here  also  Ruskin 
has  a pregnant  word  of  advice — as  indeed 
where  has  he  not  ?- — “ A great  painter’s 
business  is  to  do  what  the  public  ask  of 
him,  in  the  way  that  shall  be  helpful  and 
instructive  to  them.”  1 You  cannot  always 
do  what  people  ask,  but  you  can  do  it  more 
often  than  a headstrong  man  would  at  first 
think. 

I was  once  doing  a series  of  small  square 
panels,  set  at  intervals  in  the  height  of  some 
large,  tall  windows,  and  containing  Scrip- 
ture subjects,  the  intermediate  spaces  being 
filled  with  “grisaille”  work.  The  subjects, 
of  course,  had  to  be  approximately  on  one 
scale,  and  several  of  them  became  very 
tough  problems  on  account  of  this  re- 
striction. However,  all  managed  to  slip 
through  somehow  till  we  came  to  “Jacob’s 
Ladder,”  and  there  I stood  firm,  or  perhaps 
I ought  rather  to  say  stuck  fast . “ How  is 

it  possible,”  I said  to  my  client,  “ that  you 
can  have  a picture  of  the  c Fall  ’ in  one 

1 “ Aratra  Pentelici,”  p.  253. 


280 


panel  with  Eve’s  figure  taking  up  almost 
the  whole  height  of  it,  and  have  a similar 
panel  with  ‘ Angels  Ascending  and  Descend- 
ing’ up  and  down  a ladder  ? There  are  only 
two  ways  of  doing  it — to  put  the  ladder  far 
off  in  a landscape,  which  would  reduce  it 
to  insignificance,  and  besides  be  unsuitable 
in  glass  ; or  to  make  the  angels  the  size  of 
dolls.  Don't  you  see  that  it’s  impossible  ? ” 
No,  he  didn’t  see  that  it  was  impossible. 
What  he  wanted  was  “Jacob’s  Ladder”; 
the  possibility  or  otherwise  was  nothing  to 
him.  He  said  (what  you'll  often  hear  said, 
reader,  if  you  do  stained-glass),  “ I don’t, 
of  course,  know  anything  about  art,  and  I 
can't  say  how  this  could  be  done ; that  is 
the  artist’s  province.” 

It  was  in  my  younger  days,  and  I’m 
afraid  I must  have  replied  to  the  effect 
that  it  was  not  a question  of  art  but  of 
common  reason,  and  that  the  artist’s  pro- 
vince did  not  extend  to  making  bricks 
without  straw  or  making  two  and  two 
into  five  ; and  the  work  fell  through.  But 
had  I the  same  thing  to  deal  with  now 
I should  waste  no  words  on  it,  but  run 
the  “ladder”  right  up  out  of  the  panel 
into  the  grisaille  above;  an  opportunity 
for  one  of  those  delightful  naive  exceptions 

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of  which  old  art  is  so  full — like,  for  in- 
stance, the  west  door  of  St.  Maclou  at 
Rouen,  where  the  crowd  of  falling  angels 
burst  out  of  the  tympanum,  bang  through 
the  lintel,  defying  architecture  as  they 
defied  the  first  great  Architect,  and  con- 
tinue their  fall  amongst  the  columns  below. 
“Angels  Descending,”  by-the-bye,  with  a 
vengeance  ! And  if  the  bad  ones,  why  not 
the  good  ? I might  just  as  well  have  done 
it,  and  probably  it  would  have  been  the 
very  thing  out  of  the  whole  commission 
which  would  have  prevented  the  series 
from  being  the  tame  things  that  such 
sometimes  are.  Anyway,  remember  this — 
for  I have  invariably  found  it  true — that 
the  chief  difficulty  of  a work  of  art  is  always 
its  chief  opportunity . A thing  can  be  looked 
at  in  a thousand  and  one  ways,  and  some- 
thing dauniingly  impossible  will  often  be 
the  very  thing  that  will  shake  your  jog- 
trot cart  out  of  its  rut,  make  you  whip  up 
your  horses,  and  get  you  right  home. 

But 

Observe  this — that  all  these  wishes  of 
the  client  should  be  most  strictly  ascer- 
tained beforehand ; all  possibility  of  mid- 
way criticism  and  alteration  prevented. 
Thresh  the  thing  well  out  in  the  pre- 
282 


liminary  stages  and  start  clear ; as  long 
as  it  is  raw  material,  all  in  solution,  all 
hanging  in  the  balance — you  can  do  any- 
thing. It  is  like  “ clay  in  the  hands  of 
the  potter,”  and  you  can  make  the  vessel 
as  you  please  : “ Out  of  the  same  lump 
making  one  vessel  to  honour  and  another 
to  dishonour.”  But  when  the  work  is 
half-done , when  colour  is  calling  out  to 
colour,  and  shape  to  shape,  and  thought 
to  thought,  throughout  the  length  and 
breadth  of  the  work ; when  the  ideas  and 
the  clothing  of  them  are  all  fusing  to- 
gether into  one  harmony ; when,  in  short, 
the  thing  is  becoming  that  indestructible, 
unalterable  unity  which  we  call  a Work 
of  Art  : — then,  indeed,  to  be  required  to 
change  or  to  reconsider  is  a real  agony 
of  impossibility  ; tearing  the  glowing  web 
of  thought,  and  form,  and  fancy  into  a 
a destruction  never  to  be  reconstructed, 
and  which  no  piecing  or  patching  will 
mend. 

There  are  many  minor  points,  but 
they  are  really  so  entirely  matters  of 
experience,  that  it  hardly  seems  worth 
while  to  dwell  upon  them.  Start  with 
recognising  the  fact  that  you  must  try 
to  add  business  habits  and  sensible  and 

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economical  ways  to  your  genius  as  an 
artist ; in  short,  another  whole  side  to 
your  character ; and  keep  that  ever  in 
view,  and  the  details  will  fall  into  their 
places. 

Have  Everything  in  Order . — Every  letter 
relating  to  a current  job  should  be  findable 
at  a moment’s  notice  in  an  office  “ letter 
basket,”  rather  wider  than  a sheet  of  fools- 
cap paper,  and  with  sides  high  enough  to 
allow  of  the  papers  standing  upright  in 
unfolded  sheets,  each  group  of  them  be- 
hind a card  taller  than  the  tallest  kind  of 
ordinary  document,  and  bearing  along  the 
top  edge  in  large  red  letters — Roman 
capitals  for  choice — the  name  of  the  work  : 
and  it  need  hardly  be  said  that  these 
should  be  arranged  in  alphabetical  order. 
For  minor  matters  too  small  for  such 
classification  it  is  well  to  have,  in  the  front 
place  in  the  basket,  cards  dividing  the 
alphabet  itself  into  about  four  parts,  so 
that  unarranged  small  matters  can  be  still 
kept  roughly  alphabetical.  When  the 
work  is  done,  transfer  all  documents  to 
separate  labelled  portfolios — a folded  sheet 
of  the  thickest  brown  paper,  such  as  they 
put  under  carpets,  is  very  good — and  store 
them  away  for  reference.  Larger  port- 

284 


folios  for  all  templates , tracings,  or  archi- 
tects’ details  or  drawings  relating  to  the 
work.  If  you  have  not  a good  system 
with  regard  to  the  ordering  of  these 
things,  believe  me  the  mere  administration 
of  a very  moderate  amount  of  work  will 
take  you  all  your  day . 

So  also  with  measurement. 


Of  General 
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and  Pro- 
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ON  ACCURACY  IN  MEASUREMENT. 

In  one  of  Turgenieff’s  novels  a Russian 
country  pro/erb  is  quoted  — “Measure 
thrice,  cut  once.”  It  is  a golden  rule, 
and  should  be  inscribed  in  the  heart  of 
every  worker,  and  I will  add  one  that 
springs  out  of  it — “ Never  trust  a measure- 
ment unless  it  has  been  made  by  yourself, 
or  for  yourself — to  your  order.” 

The  measurements  on  architects’  de- 
signs, or  even  working  drawings,  can 
never  be  trusted  for  the  dimensions  of 
the  built  work.  Even  the  builders’  tem- 
plates, by  which  the  work  was  built,  can- 
not be,  for  the  masons  knock  these  quite 
enough  out,  in  actual  building,  to  make 
your  work  done  by  these  guides  a misfit. 
Have  your  own  measurements  taken  again. 
Above  all,  beware  of  trusting  to  the  sup- 
posed verticals  or  horizontals  in  built  work, 

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especially  in  tracery.  A thing  may  be  theo- 
retically and  intentionally  at  a certain 
angle,  but  actually  at  quite  a different 
one.  If  level  is  important,  take  it  your- 
self with  spirit-level  and  plumb-line. 

With  regard  to  accuracy  of  work  in  the 
shop , where  it  depends  on  yourself  and  the 
system  you  observe,  I cannot  do  better  than 
write  out  for  you  here  the  written  notice  by 
which  the  matter  is  regulated  in  my  own 
practice  with  regard  to  cartoons. 

“ Rules  to  be  Observed  in  Setting  out  Forms 
for  Cartoons. 

“ In  every  case  of  setting  out  any  form, 
or  batch  of  forms,  for  new  windows  the 
truth  of  the  first  long  line  ruled  must  be 
tested  by  stretching  a thread. 

If  the  lath  is  proved  to  be  out,  it  must 
at  once  be  sent  to  a joiner  to  be  accurately 
‘ shot,’  and  the  accuracy  of  both  its  edges 
must  then  be  tested  with  a thread. 

The  first  right  angle  made  (for  the 
corner  of  the  form)  must  also  be  tested 
by  raising  a perpendicular,  with  a radius 
of  the  compasses  not  less  than  6 inches 
and  with  a needle-pointed  pencil,  and  by 
the  subjoined  formula  and  no  other. 

From  a given  point  in  a given  straight 

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line  to  raise  a perpendicular.  Let  A B be 
the  given  straight  line  (this  must  be  the 
long  side  of  the  form,  and  the  point  B 
must  be  one  corner  of  the  base-line)  : it  is 
required  to  raise  from  the  point  B a line 
perpendicular  to  the  line  A B. 

(1)  Prolong  the  line  A B at  least  6 
inches  beyond  B (if  there  is  not  room 
on  the  paper,  it  must  be  pinned  on  to 
a smooth  board,  and  a piece  of  paper 
pinned  on,  so  as  to  meet  the  edge  of  it, 
and  continue  it  to  the  required  distance). 

(2)  With  the  centre  B (the  compass 
leg  being  in  all  cases  placed  with  absolute 
accuracy,  using  a lens  if  necessary  to  place 
it)  describe  the  circle  C D E. 

(3)  With  the  centres  C and  E,  and  with 
a radius  of  not  less  than  9 inches,  describe 
arcs  intersecting  at  F and  G. 

(4)  Join  F G. 

Then,  if  the  work  has  been  correctly 
done,  the  line  F G will  pass  through  the 
point  B,  and  be  perpendicular  to  the  line 
A B.  If  it  does  not  do  so,  the  work  is 
incorrect,  and  must  be  repeated. 

When  the  base  and  the  springing-line 
are  drawn  on  the  form,  the  form  must  be 
accurately  measured  from  the  bottom  up- 
wards, and  every  foot  marked  on  both  sides . 

288 


Such  markings  to  be  in  fine  pencil-line, 
and  to  be  drawn  from  the  sides  of  the 
form  to  the  extreme  margin  of  the  paper, 
and  you  are  not  to  trust  your  eye  by  laying 
the  lath  flat  down  and  ticking  off  opposite 
the  inch-marks,  but  you  are  to  stand  the 
lath  on  its  edge,  so  that  the  inch-marks 
actually  meet  the  paper,  and  then  tick 
opposite  to  them. 

Also  if  there  are  any  bars  in  the 
window  to  be  observed,  the  places  of 
these  must  be  marked,  and  it  must  be 
made  quite  clear  whether  the  mark  is  the 
middle  of  the  bar  or  its  edge ; and  all 
this  marking  must  be  done  lightly,  but 
very  carefully,  with  a needle  - pointed 
pencil. 

In  every  case  where  the  forms  are  set 
out  from  templates,  the  accuracy  of  the 
templates  must  be  verified,  and  in  the 
event  of  the  base  not  being  at  right 
angles  with  the  side,  a true  horizontal 
must  be  made  from  the  corner  which  is 
higher  than  the  other  (the  one  therefore 
which  has  the  obtuse  angle)  and  marked 
within  the  untrue  line ; and  all  measure- 
ments, whether  of  feet,  bars,  or  squaring- 
out  lines,  or  levels  for  canopies,  bases,  or 
any  other  divisions  of  the  light,  must  be 
t 289 


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A String 
of  Beads 


made  upwards  from  this  true  level 

LINE.” 

These  rules,  I suppose,  have  saved  me 
on  an  average  an  hour  a day  since  they 
were  drawn  up ; and,  mark  you,  an 
hour  of  waste  and  an  hour  of  worry  a 
day — which  is  as  good  as  saving  a day’s 
work  at  the  least. 

An  artist  must  dream ; you  will  not 
charge  me  with  undervaluing  that ; but 
a decorator  must  also  wake,  and  have 
his  wits  about  him  ! Start,  therefore,  in 
all  the  outward  ordering  of  your  career 
with  the  three  plain  rules : — 

(1)  To  have  everything  orderly; 

(2)  To  have  everything  accurate; 

(3 ) To  bring  everything  and  every  ques- 
tion to  a point,  at  the  timey  and  clinch  it. 

CHAPTER  XX 

A STRING  OF  BEADS 

Is  there  anything  more  to  say  ? 

A whole  world-full,  of  course ; for 
every  single  thing  is  a part  of  all  things. 
But  I have  said  most  of  my  say ; and 
I could  now  wish  that  you  were  here 

290 


that  you  might  ask  me  aught  else  you 
want. 

A few  threads  remain  that  might  be 
gathered  up — parting  words,  hints  that 
cannot  be  classified.  I must  string  them 
together  like  a row  of  beads;  big  and 
little  mixed ; we  will  try  to  get  the  big  ones 
more  or  less  in  the  middle  if  we  can. 

Grow  everything  from  seed. 

All  seeds  that  are  living  (and  therefore 
worth  growing)  have  the  power  in  them 
to  grow. 

But  so  many  people  miss  the  fact  that, 
on  the  other  hand,  nothing  else  will  grow ; 
and  that  it  is  useless  in  art  to  transplant 
full-grown  trees. 

This  is  the  key  to  great  and  little 
miseries,  great  and  little  mistakes. 

Were  you  sorry  to  be  on  the  lowest 
step  of  the  ladder  ? Be  glad ; for  all 
your  hopes  of  climbing  are  in  that. 

And  this  applies  in  all  things,  from 
conditions  of  success  and  methods  of 
“ getting  work  ” up  to  the  highest  ques- 
tions of  art  and  the  “ steps  to  Parnassus,” 
by  which  are  reached  the  very  loftiest  of 
ideals. 

I must  not  linger  over  the  former 
of  these  two  things  or  do  more  than 

291 


A String 
of  Beads 


A String  sum  it  up  in  the  advice,  to  take  any- 
of  Beads  thing  you  can  get,  and  to  be  glad,  not 
sorry,  if  it  is  small  and  comes  to  you 
but  slowly.  Simple  things,  and  little 
things,  and  many  things,  are  more  needed 
in  the  arts  to-day  than  complex  things 
and  great  and  isolated  achievements.  If 
you  have  nothing  to  do  for  others,  do 
some  little  thing  for  yourself : it  is  a 
seed,  presently  it  will  send  out  a shoot 
of  your  first  “ commission,”  and  that 
will  probably  lead  to  two  others,  or  to 
a larger  one  ; but  pray  to  be  led  by 
small  steps  ; and  make  sure  of  firm 
footing  as  you  go,  for  there  is  such  a 
thing  as  trying  to  take  a leap  on  the 
ladder,  and  leaping  off  it. 

So  much  for  the  seed  of  success. 

The  seed  of  craftsmanship  I have  tried 
to  describe  in  this  book. 

The  seed  of  ornament  and  design,  it 
is  impossible  to  treat  of  here  ; it  would 
require  as  large  a book  as  this  to  itself : 
but  I will  hazard  the  devotion  of  a page 
each  to  the  A and  the  B of  my  own 
A B C of  the  subject  as  I try  to  teach  it 
to  my  pupils,  and  put  them  before  you 
without  comment,  hoping  they  may  be  of 
some  slight  use.  (See  figs.  72  and  73.) 

292 


But  though  I said  that  nothing  will 
grow  but  seed,  it  does  not,  of  course, 
follow  that  every  seed  will  grow,  or,  if 
it  does,  that  you  yourself  will  reap  the 
exact  harvest  you  expect,  or  even  recog- 
nise it  in  its  fruitage  as  the  growth  of 
what  you  have  sown.  Expect  to  give 
much  for  little,  to  lose  sight  of  the 
bread  cast  on  the  waters,  not  even  sure 
that  you  will  know  it  again  even  if  you 
find  it  after  many  days.  You  never 
know,  and  therefore  do  not  count  your 
scalps  too  carefully  or  try  to  number  your 
Israel  and  Judah.  Neither,  on  the  other 
hand,  allow  your  seed  to  be  forced  by  the 
hothouse  of  advertising  or  business  push- 
ing, or  anything  which  will  distract  or 
distort  that  quiet  gaze  upon  the  work 
by  which  you  love  it  for  its  own  sake, 
and  judge  it  on  its  merits  ; all  such  side- 
lights are  misleading,  since  you  do  not 
know  whether  it  is  intended  that  this  or 
that  shall  prosper  or  both  be  alike  good. 

How  many  a man  one  sees,  earnest 
and  sincere  at  starting,  led  aside  off  the 
track  by  the  false  lights  of  publicity  and 
a first  success.  Art  is  peace.  Do  things 
because  you  love  them.  If  purple  is 
your  favourite  colour,  put  purple  in  your 

293 


A String 
of  Beads 


A String 
of  Beads 


Design  oonsisls  of  arrangement  let  us 
practise  arrangement  separately,  and  on  its 
/^simplest  terms.  <5ake  the  simplest  po$5> 
-ible  arranged  form , and^y, 
— make  all  ornament  springs 
fVom  this,  xjuilhout,  for  a corv 
*siderabie  x time  charging  its 
character,  or  making  any  additions  x d a 
different  character  to  it.  If  wer  are  not-^ 
then  to  do  this  uihat  resource  have  cue? 
cue  may  change  its  direction . Proceed,  then 
‘ID  do  so.  observing  a few  very  simple  rules 
b,  l.  Do  Ihe  ujorh  in  single  stitches 
Cot-  — . 2.8c  to  each  arm  of  the  cross  in 
J (urn.  a.  keep  a record  of  each 
feJ  step;  that  is,  as  soon  as  yotu: 
have  got  any  definite  deVelcpemert  from 
your  original  form,  put  that  down  on-<2> 
paper  and  leave  it , drawing  it  over  again 
and  developing  from  the  second  drawing. 
C-sJp)  fohe  fourth  rule  is  the  most  rrrv 
(oCfMk  poriant  of  all:  ± Keep 'on  Ihe^^ 
iRD'  spd"  as  much  as  possible,  Lc  lake 
QP  a number  of  single  steps  from  Ihe 
point  you  have  arrived  at,  not  a.  number 
of  consecutive  steps  leading  farther  from* 
" ^ d.  M it.  For  example*.'-^!* 
"b*  here  is  a singles 
step  from  "A1,  you  do^ 
one  Thing.  X do  not— 

F.  want  you  to  go  cn  dew 
lylLy  sloping  from  it  [fig'b’J 
7[  ^ as  c’d&e.  until  you  have 
iy/  gone  back  to  fig.  ‘a*  and 
the  immediately  possible  steps  to 
on  it,  one  of  wh.  is  shewn. nq‘i\ 


made  all 
be  teken  from 


Fig.  72. 


294 


Seed  of  design  as  applied  to  O&ft  & 
Material.  Suppose  you  have  three  aim* 
~ ~_;ple  openings, (fig.&) 
garret  urirfcoius,  or« 
(Sassage  iiutodouxs,  ux 
will  suppose,  each*  ^ 
with  a central  hom* 
'cntal  bar:  and  suppose  you  have  ar; 
number  of  pieces  or  glass  to  use  up  ah 
•ready  cut  to  one  gua ge,  and  that  six  of 

Orhese  fill  a ujindour,  can  you  get  ary 
tittle  Variety  by  arrangement  on  the  x 
following  terms*  treating  both  upper 
and  louder  ranges  alike 
^TUlooring  yourself,  to  halve  them , Vertical* 
ty  only. 

5.  Hot  wasting  any  glass. 

*.  Hot  halving  more  than  tax)  in  each  light 
houj  is  this,  fig.bl** 
you  despise  it?  jx  so 
absurdly  simple?  >!•  Ji- 
lt IS  he  key  to  alD 

— . simple  ornament  inj« 

leaded,  glass  Exhaust  all  the  possible* 
varieties’ , there  ate  at  least  nine.  j&.  Do 
therm  Shats  all 


Fig.  73. 

295 


A String 
of  Beads 


A String  window ; if  green,  green ; if  yellow, 
of  Beads  yellow.  Flowers  and  leaves  and  buds 
because  you  love  them.  Glass  because 
you  love  it.  It  is  not  that  you  are  to 
despise  either  fame  or  wealth.  Honestly 
acquired  both  are  good.  But  you  must 
bear  in  mind  that  the  pursuit  of  these 
separately  by  any  other  means  than  per- 
fecting your  work  is  a thing  requiring 
great  outlay  of  Time,  and  you  cannot 
afford  to  withdraw  any  time  from  your 
work  in  order  to  acquire  them. 

In  these  days  and  in  our  huge  cities 
there  are  so  many  avenues  open  to  cele- 
brity, through  Society,  the  Press,  Exhibi- 
tion, and  so  forth,  that  a man  once  led 
to  spend  time  on  them  is  in  danger  of 
finding  half  his  working  life  run  away 
with  by  them  before  he  is  aware,  while 
even  if  they  are  successful  the  success  won 
by  them  is  a poor  thing  compared  to  that 
which  might  have  been  earned  by  the 
work  which  was  sacrificed  for  them.  It 
becomes  almost  a profession  in  itself  to 
keep  oneself  notorious. 

To  spend  large  slices  out  of  one’s  time 
in  the  mere  putting  forward  of  one’s  work, 
showing  it  apart  from  doing  it,  necessary  as 
this  sometimes  is,  is  a thing  to  be  done 
296 


grudgingly  ; still  more  so  should  one 
grudge  to  be  called  from  one’s  work 
here,  there,  and  everywhere  by  the  social 
claims  which  crowd  round  the  position 
of  a public  man. 

There  are  strenuous  things  enough  for 
you  in  the  work  itself  without  wasting 
your  strength  on  these.  We  will  speak 
of  them  presently ; but  a word  first  upon 
originality. 

Don’t  strive  to  be  original ; no  one  ever 
got  Heaven’s  gift  of  invention  by  saying, 
“ I must  have  it,  and  since  I don’t  feel  it 
I must  assume  it  and  pretend  it ; ” follow 
rather  your  master  patiently  and  lovingly 
for  a long  time;  give  and  take,  echo  his 
habits  as  Botticelli  echoed  Filippo  Lippi’s, 
but  improve  upon  them  ; add  something  to 
them  if  you  can,  as  he  also  did,  and  pass 
then  on,  as  he  also  did,  to  the  little  Filippo 
— Filippino  — making  him  a truer  and 
sweeter  heart  than  his  father,  out  of  the 
well  of  truth  and  sweetness  with  which 
Botticelli’s  own  heart  was  brimming.  Do 
this,  but  at  the  same  time  expect  with 
happy  patience,  as  a boy  longs  for  his 
manhood,  yet  does  not  try  to  hasten  it 
and  does  not  pretend  to  forestall  it,  the 

297 


A String 
of  Beads 


A String 
of  Beads 


time  when  some  fresh  idea  in  imagination, 
some  fresh  method  in  design,  some  fresh 
process  in  craftsmanship,  will  come  to  you 
as  a reward  of  patient  working — and  come 
by  accident,  as  all  such  things  do,  lest 
you  should  think  it  your  own  and  miss 
the  joy  of  knowing  that  it  is  not  yours 
but  Heaven’s. 

And  when  this  comes,  guard  it  and  ma- 
ture it  carefully.  Do  not  throw  it  out  too 
lavishly  broadcast  with  the  ostentation  of 
a generous  genius  having  gifts  to  spare. 
Share  it  with  proved  and  worthy  friends, 
when  they  notice  it  and  ask  you  about  it, 
but  in  the  meanwhile  develop  and  cultivate 
it  as  a gardener  does  a tree.  And  this 
leads  me  to  the  most  important  point  of 
all — namely,  the  value,  the  all-sufficing 
value,  of  one  new  step  on  the  road  of 
Beauty.  If  such  is  really  granted  you, 
consider  it  as  enough  for  your  lifetime. 
One  such  thing  in  the  history  of  the  arts 
has  generally  been  enough  for  a century ; 
how  much  more,  then,  for  a generation. 

For  indeed  there  is  only  one  rule  for 
fine  work  in  art,  that  you  should  put  your 
whole  strength,  all  the  powers  of  mind 
and  body  into  every  touch.  Nothing  less 
will  do  than  that.  You  must  face  it  in 

298 


drawing  from  the  life.  Try  it  in  its 
acutest  form,  not  from  the  posed,  pro- 
fessional model,  who  will  sit  like  a stone  ; 
try  it  with  children,  two  years  old  or  so ; 
the  despair  of  it,  the  exhaustion  : and  then, 
in  a flash,  when  you  thought  you  had  really 
done  somewhat,  a still  more  captivating, 
fascinating  gesture,  which  makes  all  you 
have  done  look  like  lead.  Can  you  screw 
your  exhaustion  up  again , sacrifice  all  you 
have  done,  and  face  the  labour  of  wrest- 
ling with  the  new  idea  ? And  if  you  do  ? 
You  are  sick  with  doubt  between  the  new 
and  the  old.  You  ask  your  friends ; you 
probably  choose  wrong  ; your  judgment 
is  clouded  by  the  fatigue  of  your  previous 
toil. 

But  you  have  gained  strength.  That  is 
the  real  point  of  the  thing.  It  is  not  what 
you  have  done  in  this  instance,  but  what 
you  have  become  in  doing  it.  Next  time, 
fresh  and  strong,  you  will  dash  the  beauti- 
ful sudden  thought  upon  the  paper  and 
leave  it,  happy  to  make  others  happy,  but 
only  through  the  pains  you  took  before, 
which  are  a small  price  to  pay  for  the  joy 
of  the  strength  you  have  gained. 

This  is  the  rule  of  great  work.  Puzzle 
and  hesitation  and  compromise  can  only 

299  * 


A String 
of  Beads 


A String  occur  because  you  have  left  some  factor 
of  Beads  0f  the  problem  out  of  count,  and  this 
should  never  be.  Your  business  is  to 
take  all  into  account  and  to  sacrifice 
everything,  however  fascinating  and  tempt- 
ing it  may  be  in  itself,  if  it  does  not  fit 
in  as  part  of  an  harmonious  whole.  Re- 
member in  this  case,  when  loth  to  make 
such  sacrifice,  the  old  saying  that  “ there’s 
as  good  fish  in  the  sea  as  ever  came  out.” 
Brace  yourself  to  try  for  something  still 
better.  Recast  your  composition.  If  it 
is  defective,  the  defect  all  comes  from 
some  want  of  strenuousness  as  you  went 
along.  It  is  like  getting  a bit  of  your 
figure  out  of  drawing  because  your  eye 
only  measured  some  portion  of  it  with 
one  or  two  portions  of  the  rest  and 
not  with  the  whole  figure  and  attitude. 
Every  student  knows  the  feeling.  So  in 
your  composition  : you  may  get  impossible 
levels,  impossible  relations  between  the 
subject  and  the  surrounding  canopy : per- 
haps one  coming  in  front  of  the  other  at 
one  point  and  the  reverse  at  another  point. 
You  drew  the  thing  dreamily : you  were 
not  alert  enough.  And  now  you  must 
waste  what  you  had  got  to  love,  because 
though  it’s  so  pretty  it  is  not  fitting. 

3°° 


But  sometimes  it  will  happen  that  some 
line  of  your  composition  is  thus  hacked 
off  by  no  fault  of  yours,  by  some  mis- 
measurement  of  a bar  by  your  builder,  or 
some  change  of  mind  or  whim  of  your 

client,  who  “ likes  it  all  but  ” (some 

vital  feature).  As  we  have  said,  this  is 
not  quite  a fair  demand  to  be  made  upon 
the  artist,  but  it  will  sometimes  occur, 
whatever  we  do.  Pull  yourself  together, 
and,  before  you  stand  out  about  it  and 
refuse  to  change,  consider.  Try  the 
modification,  and  try  it  in  such  an  aroused 
and  angry  spirit  as  shall  flame  out  against 
the  difficulty  with  force  and  heat.  Let 
the  whole  thing  be  as  fuel  of  fire,  and 
the  reward  will  be  given.  The  chief 
difficulty  may  become — it  is  more  than 
an  even  chance  that  it  does  become — the 
chief  glory,  and  that  the  composition 
will  be  like  the  new-born  Phoenix,  sprung 
from  the  ashes  of  the  old  and  thrice  as 
fair. 

Then  also  strike  while  the  iron  is  hot, 
and  work  while  you’re  warm  to  it.  When 
you  have  done  the  main  figure-study  and 
slain  its  difficulty  you  feel  braced  up, 
your  mind  clear,  and  you  see  your  way 
to  link  it  in  with  the  surroundings.  Will 

3°i 


A String 
of  Beads 


A String  you  let  it  all  get  cold  because  it  is  toward 
of  Beads  evening  and  you  are  physically  tired, 
when  another  hour  would  set  the  whole 
problem  right  for  next  day’s  work ; now, 
while  you  are  warm,  while  the  beauty  of 
the  model  you  have  drawn  from  is  still 
glowing  in  you  with  a thousand  sugges- 
tions and  possibilities  ? You  will  do  in 
another  hour  now  what  would  take  you 
days  to  do  when  the  fire  has  died  down 
- — if  you  ever  do  it  at  all. 

It  is  after  a day’s  work  such  as  this  that 
one  feels  the  true  delight  of  the  balm  of 
Nature.  For  conquered  difficulty  brings 
new  insight  through  the  feeling  of  new 
power ; and  new  beauties  are  seen  because 
they  are  felt  to  be  attainable,  and  by 
virtue  of  the  assurance  that  one  has  got 
distinctly  a step  nearer  to  the  veil  that 
hides  the  inner  heart  of  things  which  is 
our  destined  home. 

It  is  after  work  like  this,  feeling  the 
stirrings  of  some  real  strength  within  you, 
promising  power  to  deal  with  nature’s 
secrets  by-and-by,  that  you  see  as  never 
before  the  beauty  of  things. 

The  keen  eyes  that  have  been  so  busy 
turn  gratefully  to  the  silver  of  the  sky 
with  the  grey,  quiet  trees  against  it  and 
302 


the  watery  gleam  of  sunset  like  pale  gold, 
low  down  behind  the  boughs,  where  the 
robin,  half  seen,  is  flitting  from  place  to 
place,  choosing  his  rest  and  twittering  his 
good-night ; and  you  think  with  good 
hope  of  your  life  that  is  coming,  and 
of  all  your  aspirations  and  your  dreams. 
And  in  the  stillness  and  the  coolness  and 
the  peace  you  can  dwell  with  confidence 
upon  the  thought  of  all  the  Unknown 
that  is  moving  onward  towards  you,  as 
the  glow  which  is  fading  renews  itself 
day  by  day  in  the  East,  bringing  the 
daily  task  with  it. 

You  feel  that  you  are  able  to  meet  it, 
and  that  all  is  well ; that  there  are  quiet 
and  good  things  in  store,  and  that  this 
constant  renewal  of  the  glories  of  day  and 
night,  this  constant  procession  of  morning 
and  evening  as  the  world  rolls  round,  has 
become  almost  a special  possession  to  you, 
to  which  only  those  who  pay  the  price 
have  entrance,  an  inheritance  of  your  own 
as  a reward  of  your  endeavour  and  ac- 
quired power,  and  leading  to  some  pur- 
posed end  that  will  be  peace. 

Stained  - glass,  stained  - glass,  stained- 
glass  ! At  night  in  the  lofty  church 

303 


A String 
of  Beads 


A String  windows  the  bits  glow  and  gloom  and 
of  Beads  talk  to  one  another  in  their  places  ; and 
the  pictured  angels  and  saints  look  down, 
peopling  the  empty  aisles  and  companion- 
ing the  lamp  of  the  sanctuary. 

The  beads  worth  threading  seem  about 
all  threaded  now,  and  the  book  appears 
to  be  done.  Thus  we  have  gone  on 
then,  making  it  as  it  came  to  hand, 
blundering,  as  it  seems  to  me,  on  the 
borders  of  half  a dozen  literary  or  illiterate 
styles,  the  pen  not  being  the  tool  of  our 
proper  craft ; but  on  the  whole  saying 
somehow  what  we  meant  to  say : laughing 
when  we  felt  amused,  and  being  serious 
when  the  subject  seemed  so,  our  object 
being  indeed  to  make  workers  in  stained- 
glass  and  not  a book  about  it.  Is  it  worth 
while  to  try  and  put  a little  clasp  to  our 
string  of  beads  and  tie  all  together  ? 

There  was  a little  boy  (was  he  six  or 
seven  or  eight  ?),  and  his  seat  on  Sunday 
was  opposite  the  door  in  the  fourteenth- 
century  chancel  of  the  little  Norman 
country  church.  There  the  great,  tall 
windows  hung  in  the  air  around  him,  and 
he  used  to  stare  up  at  them  with  goggle- 
eyes  in  the  way  that  used  to  earn  him 
* 304 


household  names,  wondering  which  he 
liked  best.  And  for  months  one  would 
be  the  favourite,  and  for  months  another 
would  supplant  it ; his  fancy  would  change, 
and  now  he  liked  this — now  that.  Only  the 
stone  tracery-bars,  for  there  was  no  stained- 
glass  to  spoil  them.  The  broad,  plain 
flagstones  of  the  floor  spread  round  him 
in  cool,  white  spaces,  in  loved  unevenness, 
honoured  by  the  foot-tracks  which  had 
worn  the  stone  into  little  valleys  from  the 
door  and  through  the  narrow,  Norman 
chancel-arch  up  towards  the  altar  rails, 
telling  of  generations  of  feet,  long  since 
at  rest,  that  had  carried  simple  lives  to 
seek  the  place  as  the  place  of  their  help 
or  peace. 

Plain  rush-plaited  hassocks  and  little 
brass  sconces  where,  on  lenten  nights,  in 
the  unwarmed  church,  glimmered  the 
few  candles  that  lit  the  devotion  of  the 
strong,  rough  sons  of  the  glebe,  hedgers 
and  ditchers,  who  came  there  after  daily 
labour  to  spell  out  simple  prayer  and 
praise.  But  it  was  best  on  the  summer 
Sunday  mornings,  when  the  great  spaces 
of  blue,  and  the  towering  white  clouds 
looked  down  through  the  diamond  panes  ; 
and  the  iron-studded  door,  with  the 
u 305 


A String 
of  Beads 


A String  wonderful  big  key,  which  his  hands  were 
of  Beads  not  yet  strong  enough  to  turn,  stood  wide 
open ; and  outside,  amongst  the  deep 
grass  that  grew  upon  the  graves,  he  could 
see  the  tortoise-shell  butterflies  sunning 
themselves  upon  the  dandelions.  Then 
it  was  that  he  used  to  think  the  outside 
the  best,  and  fancy  (with  perfect  truth,  as 
I believe)  that  angels  must  be  looking 
in,  just  as  much  as  he  was  looking  out, 
and  gazing  down,  grave-eyed,  upon  the 
little  people  inside,  as  he  himself  used  to 
watch  the  red  ants  busy  in  their  tiny 
mounds  upon  the  grass  plot  or  the  gravel 
path  ; and  he  wondered  sometimes  whether 
the  outside  or  the  inside  was  “ God’s 
House  ” most : the  place  where  he  was 
sitting,  with  rough,  simple  things  about 
him  that  the  village  carpenter  or  mason 
or  blacksmith  had  made,  or  the  beautiful 
glowing  world  outside.  And  as  he  thought, 
with  the  grave  mind  of  a child,  about 
these  things,  he  came  to  fancy  that  the 
eyes  that  looked  out  through  the  silver 
diamond-panes  which  kept  out  the  wind 
and  rain,  mattered  less  than  the  eyes  that 
looked  in  from  the  other  side  where 
basked  the  butterflies  and  flowers  and  all 
the  living  things  he  so  loved  ; awful  eyes 
3°6 


that  were  at  home  where  hung  the  sun 
himself  in  his  distances  and  the  stars  in 
the  great  star-spaces  ; where  Orion  and 
the  Pleiades  glittered  in  the  winter  nights, 
where  “ Mazzaroth  was  brought  forth  in 
his  season,”  and  where  through  the  purple 
skies  of  summer  evening  was  laid  out 
overhead  the  assigned  path  along  which 
moved  Arcturus  with  his  sons. 


A String 
of  Beads 


307 


APPENDIX  1 


SOME  SUGGESTIONS  AS  TO  THE  STUDY 
OF  OLD  GLASS 


Some  Sug- 
gestions as 
to  the 
Study  of 
Old  Glass 


Every  one  who  wants  to  study  glass 
should  go  to  York  Minster.  Go  to 
the  extreme  west  end,  the  first  two 
windows  are  of  plain  quarries  most 
prettily  leaded,  and  showing  how  pleasant 
“plain-glazing”  may  be,  with  silvery 
glass  and  a child-like  enjoyment  of  simple 
patterning,  unconscious  of  “ high  art.” 
But  look  at  the  second  window  on  the 
north  side.  What  do  you  see  ? You 
see  a yellow  shield  ? Exactly.  Every 
one  who  looks  at  that  window  as  he 
passes  at  a quick  walk  must  come  away 
remembering  that  he  had  seen  a yellow 
shield.  But  stop  and  look  at  it.  Don’t 
you  like  it — / do  ! Why  ? — well,  because 
it  happens  to  be  by  good  luck  just  right, 
and  it  is  a very  good  lesson  of  the  degree 
3°8 


in  which  beauty  in  glass  depends  on 
juxtaposition.  I had  thought  of  it  as 
a particularly  beautiful  bit  of  glass  in 
quality  and  colour— but  not  at  all ! it  is 
textureless  and  rather  crude.  I had 
thought  of  it  as  old— not  at  all : it  is 
probably  eighteenth-century.  But  look 
what  it  happens  to  be  set  in — the  mix- 
ture of  agate,  silver,  greenish  and  black 
quarries.  Imagine  it  by  itself  without 
the  dull  citron  crocketting  and  pale 
yellow-stain  u sun  ” and  “ shafting  ” of 
the  panel  below— without  the  black  and 
yellow  escutcheon  in  the  light  to  its  right 
hand — even  without  the  cutting  up  and 
breaking  with  black  lead-lines  of  its  own 
upper  half.  In  short,  you  could  have  it 
so  placed  that  you  would  like  it  no 
better,  that  it  would  be  no  better,  than 
the  bit  of  “ builder’s  glazing”  in  the  top 
quatrefoil  of  the  next  window,  which 
looks  like,  and  I fancy  is,  of  almost  the 
very  same  glass,  but  clumsily  mixed,  and, 
fortunately,  dated  for  our  instruction, 
I779- 

I do  not  know  any  place  where 
you  can  get  more  study  of  certain  pro- 
perties of  glass  than  in  the  city  of  York. 
The  cathedral  alone  is  a mine  of  wealth. 

309 


Some  Sug- 
gestions as 
to  the 
Study  of 
Old  Glass 


Some  Sug- 
gestions as 
to  the 
Study  of 
Old  Glass 


The  nave  windows  are  near  enough  to  see 
all  necessary  detail.  There  is  something 
of  every  period.  And  with  regard  to  the 
nave  and  clerestory  windows,  they  have  been 
so  mauled  and  re-leaded  that  you  need  not 
be  in  the  least  afraid  of  admiring  the 
wrong  thing  or  passing  by  the  right. 
You  can  be  quite  frank  and  simple  about 
it  all.  For  instance,  my  own  favourite 
window  is  the  fifth  from  the  west  on  the 
south  side.  The  old  restorer  has  coolly 
slipped  down  one  whole  panel  below  its 
proper  level  in  a shower  of  rose-leaves 
(which  were  really,  I believe,  originally 
a pavement),  and,  frankly,  I don’t  know 
(and  don’t  care)  whether  they  are  part 
of  his  work  in  the  late  eighteenth  cen- 
tury or  the  original  glass  of  the  late 
fourteenth.  I rather  incline  to  think  that 
they  came  out  of  some  other  window 
and  are  bits  of  fifteenth-century  glass. 
The  same  with  the  chequered  shield  of 
Vernon  in  the  other  light.  I daresay 
it  is  a bit  of  builder’s  glazing — but  isn’t 
it  jolly  ? And  what  do  you  think 
of  the  colour  of  the  little  central  circle 
half-way  up  the  middle  light  ? Isn’t 
it  a flower  ? And  look  at  the  petal 
that’s  dropped  from  it  on  to  the  bar 
3TO 


below ! or  the  whole  of  the  left-hand 
light ; well,  or  the  middle  light,  or  the 
right-hand  light  ? If  that’s  not  colour 
I don’t  know  what  is.  I doubt  if  it 
was  any  more  beautiful  when  it  was 
new,  perhaps  not  so  beautiful.  Compare 
it,  for  example,  with  the  window  in  the 
same  wall  (I  think  next  to  it  on  the  west, 
which  has  been  “ restored  ”).  The  window 
exactly  opposite  seems  one  of  the  least 
retouched,  and  the  least  interesting  ; if 
you  think  the  yellow  canopies  disagree- 
able in  colour  don’t  be  ashamed  to  say  so  : 
they  are  not  unbeautiful  exactly,  I think, 
but,  personally,  I could  do  with  less  of 
them.  Yet  I should  not  be  surprised  to 
be  assured  that  they  are  all  genuine 
fourteenth-century.  In  the  north  tran- 
sept is  the  celebrated  “ Five  Sisters,”  the 
most  beautiful  bit  of  thirteenth-century 
“ grisaille  ” perhaps  in  existence.  That  is 
where  we  get  our  patterns  for  “ kamp- 
tulicon  ” from  ; but  we  don’t  make 
kamptulicon  quite  like  it.  If  you  want  a 
sample  of  “ nineteenth-century  thirteenth- 
century  ” work  you  have  only  to  look 
over  your  left  shoulder. 

A similar  glance  to  the  right  will 
show  you  “ nineteenth-century  fifteenth- 

3ii 


Some  Sug- 
gestions as 
to  the 
Study  of 
Old  Glass 


Some  Sug- 
gestions as 
to  the 
Study  of 
Old  Glass 


century”  work — and  show  it  you  in  a 
curious  and  instructive  transition  stage- 
portions  of  the  two  right-hand  windows 
of  the  five  being  old  glass  worked  in  with 
new,  while  the  right-hand  one  of  all  is  a 
little  abbot  who  is  nearly  all  old  and  has 
shrunk  behind  a tomb,  wondering,  as  it 
seems  to  me,  “ how  those  fellows  got  in,” 
and  making  up  his  mind  whether  he’s 
going  to  stand  being  bullied  by  the  new 
St.  Peter.  In  the  south  transept  op- 
posite, all  the  five  eastern  windows  are 
fifteenth-century,  and  some  of  them 
very  well  preserved,  while  those  in  the 
southern  wall  are  modern.  The  great  east 
window  has  a history  of  its  own  quite 
easily  ascertainable  on  the  spot  and  worthy 
of  research  and  study.  Then  go  into  the 
north  ambulatory,  look  at  the  third  of 
the  big  windows.  Well,  the  right-hand 
light ; look  at  the  bishop  at  the  top  in  a 
dark  red  chasuble,  note  the  bits  of  dull 
rose  colour  in  the  lower  dress,  the  bit  of 
blackish  grey  touching  the  pastoral  staff 
just  below  the  edge  of  the  chasuble,  look 
at  the  bits  of  sharp  strong  blue  in  the 
background.  Now  I believe  these  are 
all  accidents — bits  put  in  in  re-leading  ; 
but  when  the  choir  is  singing  and  you 
3 1 2 


can  pick  out  every  separate  note  of  the 
harmony  as  it  comes  down  to  you  from 
each  curve  of  the  fretted  roof,  if  you 
don’t  think  this  window  goes  with  it  and 
is  music  also,  you  must  be  wrong,  I think, 
in  eye  or  ear.  But  indeed  this  part  of 
the  church  and  all  round  the  choir  aisles 
on  both  sides  is  a perfect  treasure-house  of 
glass. 

If  you  want  an  instance  of  what  I said 
(p.  212)  as  to  “added  notes  turning  dis- 
cord into  harmony,”  look  at  the  patched 
east  window  of  the  south  choir  aisle. 
Mere  jumble — probably  no  selection — 
yet  how  beautiful ! like  beds  of  flowers. 
Did  you  ever  see  a bed  of  flowers  that  was 
not  beautiful  ? — often  and  often,  when  the 
gardener  had  carefully  selected  the  plants 
of  his  ribbon-bordering  ; but  I would  have 
you  think  of  an  old-fashioned  cottage 
garden,  with  its  roses  and  lilies  and  lark- 
spur and  snapdragon  and  marigolds- — - 
those  are  what  windows  should  be  like. 

In  addition  to  the  minster,  almost  every 
church  in  the  city  has  some  interesting 
glass  ; several  of  them  a great  quantity,  and 
some  finer  than  any  in  the  cathedral  itself. 
And  here  I would  give  a hint.  Never 
pass  a church  or  chapel  of  any  sort  or  kind , 

3J3 


Some  Sug- 
gestions as 
to  the 
Study  of 
Old  Glass 


Some  Sug- 
gestions as 
to  the 
Study  *of 
Old  Glass 


old  or  new , without  looking  in.  You  cannot 
tell  what  you  may  find. 

And  a second  hint.  Do  not  make 
written  pencil  notes  regarding  colour, 
either  from  glass  or  nature,  for  you’ll 
never  trouble  to  puzzle  them  out  after- 
wards. Take  your  colour-box  with  you. 
The  merest  dot  of  tint  on  the  paper  will 
bring  everything  back  to  mind. 

Space  prevents  our  making  here  any- 
thing like  a complete  itinerary  setting 
forth  where  glass  may  be  studied ; it  must 
suffice  to  name  a few  centres,  noting  a 
few  places  in  the  same  district  which  may 
be  visited  from  them  easily.  I name  only 
those  I know  myself,  and  of  course  the 
list  is  very  slight. 

York.  And  all  churches  in  the  city. 

Gloucester.  Tewkesbury,  Cirencester. 

Birmingham.  (For  Burne  - Jones 
glass.)  Shrewsbury,  Warwick,  Tamworth, 
Malvern. 

Wells. 

Oxford.  Much  glass  in  the  city,  old 
and  new.  Fairford. 

Cambridge.  Much  glass  in  the  city, 
old  and  new. 

Canterbury. 

Chartres.  (If  there  is  still  any  left 

3H 


unrestored.)  St.  Pierre  in  the  same 
town. 

Sens. 

Troyes.  Auxerre. 

Of  the  last  two  I have  only  seen  some 
copies.  For  glass  by  Rossetti,  Burne-Jones, 
and  Madox-Brown,  consult  their  lives. 

There  are  many  well-known  books  on 
the  subject  of  ancient  glass,  Winston, 
Westlake,  &c.,  which  give  fuller  details 
on  this  matter. 


APPENDIX  II 

ON  THE  RESTORING  OF  ANCIENT  WINDOWS 

Let  us  realise  what  is  done. 

And  let  us  consider  what  ought  to  he  done. 
A window  of  ancient  glass  needs  re- 
leading. The  lead  has  decayed  and  the 
whole  is  loose  and  shaky.  The  ancient 
glass  has  worn  very  thin,  pitted  almost 
through  like  a worn-out  thimble  with 
little  holes  where  the  alkalis  have  worked 
their  way  out.  It  is  as  fragile  and  tender 
as  an  old  oil-painting  that  needs  to  be 
taken  off  a rotten  canvas  and  re-lined. 
If  you  examine  a piece  of  old  glass  whose 
lead  has  had  time  to  decay,  you  will  find 

315 


Some  Sug- 
gestions as 
to  the 
Study  of 
Old  Glass 


On  the 
Restoring 
of  Ancient 
Windows 


Ott  the 
Restoring 
of  Ancient 
Windows 


that  the  glass  itself  is  often  in  an  equally 
tender  state.  The  painting  would  remain 
for  years,  probably  for  centuries  yet,  if 
untouched,  just  as  dust,  without  any 
attachment  at  all,  will  hang  on  a vertical 
looking-glass.  But  if  you  scrape  it,  even 
only  with  the  finger-nail,  you  will  gener- 
ally find  that  that  is  sufficient  to  bring 
much — perhaps  most — of  the  painting  off, 
while  both  sides  of  the  glass  are  covered 
with  a “ patina  ” of  age  which  is  its  chief 
glory  in  quality  and  colour,  and  which, 
or  most  of  which,  a wet  handkerchief 
dipped  in  a little  dust  and  rubbed  smartly 
will  remove. 

In  short,  here  is  a work  of  art  as 
beautiful  and  precious  as  a picture  by 
Titian  or  Holbein,  and  probably,  as  being 
the  chief  glory  of  some  stately  cathedral, 
still  more  precious,  which  ought  only  to 
be  trusted  to  the  gentle  hands  of  a 
cultivated  and  scientific  artist,  connoisseur, 
and  expert.  The  glass  should  all  be 
handled  as  if  it  were  old  filigree  silver. 
If  the  lead  is  so  perished  that  it  is 
absolutely  impossible  to  avoid  taking  the 
glass  down,  it  should  be  received  on  the 
scaffold  itself,  straight  from  its  place  in 
the  stone,  between  packing-boards  lined 

316 


with  sheets  of  wadding — “ cotton-wool  ” 
— attached  to  the  boards  with  size  or 
paste,  and  with,  of  course,  the  “ fluffy  ” 
side  outwards.  These  boards,  section  by 
section,  should  be  finally  corded  or 
clamped  ready  for  travelling  before  being 
lowered  from  ihe  scaffold ; if  any  pieces  of 
the  glass  get  detached  they  should  be 
carefully  packed  in  separate  boxes,  each 
labelled  with  a letter  corresponding  to 
one  placed  on  the  section  as  packed,  so 
that  there  may  be  no  chance  of  their 
place  ever  being  lost,  and  when  all  is 
done  the  whole  window  will  be  ready  to 
be  gently  lowered,  securely  “packed  for 
removal,”  to  the  pavement  below.  The 
ideal  thing  now  would  be  to  hire  a room 
and  do  the  work  on  the  spot ; but  if  this 
is  impossible  on  account  of  expense  and 
the  thing  has  to  bear  a journey,  the 
sections,  packed  as  above  described,  should 
be  themselves  packed,  twro  or  three  to- 
gether, as  may  be  convenient,  in  an  outer 
packing-case  for  travelling.  It  should  be 
insured,  for  then  a representative  of  the 
railway  must  attend  to  certify  the  pack- 
ing, and  also  extra  care  will  be  taken  in 
transit. 

Arrived  at  the  shop,  the  window  should 

317 


On  the 
Restoring 
of  Ancient 
Windows 


On  the 
Restoring 
of  Ancient 
Windows 


be  laid  out  carefully  on  the  bench  and 
each  bit  re-leaded  into  its  place,  the  very 
fragile  pieces  between  two  bits  of  thin 
sheet-glass. 

Unless  this  last  practice  is  adopted 
throughout , the  ordinary  process  of  cement- 
ing must  be  omitted  and  careful  puttying 
substituted  for  it.  While  if  it  is  adopted 
the  whole  must  be  puttied  before  cement- 
ing, otherwise  the  cement  will  run  in 
between  the  various  thicknesses  of  glass. 
It  would  be  an  expensive  and  tedious  and 
rather  thankless  process,  for  the  repairer’s 
whole  aim  would  be  to  hide  from  the 
spectator  the  fact  that  anything  whatever 
had  been  done. 

What  does  happen  at  present  is  this. 
A country  clergyman,  or,  in  the  case  of 
a cathedral,  an  architectural  surveyor, 
neither  of  whom  know  by  actual  prac- 
tice anything  technically  of  stained-glass, 
hand  the  job  over  to  some  one  represent- 
ing a stained-glass  establishment.  This 
gentleman  has  studied  stained-glass  on 
paper,  and  knows  as  much  about  cutting 
or  leading  technically  and  by  personal 
practice,  as  an  architect  does  of  masonry, 
or  stone- carving — neither  more  nor  less. 
That  is  to  say,  he  has  made  sketch-books 
318 


full  of  water-colour  or  pencil  studies,  and 
endless  notes  from  old  examples,  and  has 
never  cut  a bit  of  glass  in  his  life,  or 
leaded  it. 

Well,  he  assumes  the  responsibility,  and 
the  client  reposes  in  the  blissful  confidence 
that  all  is  well. 

Is  all  well  ? 

The  work  is  placed  in  the  charge 
of  the  manager,  and  through  him  it 
filters  down  as  part  of  the  ordinary, 
natural  course  of  events  into  the  glazing- 
shop.  Here  this  precious  and  fragile 

work  of  art  we  have  described  is  handed 
over  to  a number  of  ordinary  working 
men  to  treat  by  the  ordinary  methods  of 
their  trade.  They  know  perfectly  well 
that  nobody  above  them  knows  as  much 
as  they,  or,  indeed,  anything  at  all  of  their 
craft.  Division  of  labour  has  made  them 
“glaziers,”  as  it  has  made  the  gentlemen 
above  stairs,  who  do  the  cartoons  or  the 
painting,  “artists.”  These  last  know  no- 
thing of  glazing,  why  should  glaziers 
know  anything  of  art  ? It  is  perfectly 
just  reasoning  ; they  do  their  very  best, 
and  what  they  do  is  this.  They  take  out 
the  old,  tender  glass,  with  the  colour 
hardly  clinging  to  it,  and  they  put  it 

319 


On  the 
Restoring 
of  Ancient 
Windows 


On  the 
Restoring 
of  Ancient 
Windows 


into  fresh  leads,  and  then  they  solder 
up  the  joints.  And,  by  way  of  a trium- 
phant wind-up  to  a good,  solid,  English, 
common-sense  job,  with  no  art-nonsense  or 
fads  about  it,  they  proceed  to  scrub  the 
whole  on  both  sides  with  stiff  grass- 
brushes  (ordinarily  sold  at  the  oil-shops 
for  keeping  back-kitchen  sinks  clean), 
using  with  them  a composition  mainly 
consisting  of  exactly  the  same  materials 
with  which  a housemaid  polishes  the 
fender  and  fire-irons.  That  is  a plain, 
simple,  unvarnished  statement  of  facts. 
You  may  find  it  difficult  of  belief,  but 
this  is  what  actually  happens.  This  is 
what  you  are  having  done  everywhere, 
guardians  of  our  ancient  buildings.  You’ll 
soon  have  all  your  old  windows  “ quite 
as  good  as  new.”  It’s  a merry  world, 
isn’t  it  ? 


32° 


APPENDIX  III 


Hints  for  the  Curriculum  of  a Technical  School  for 
Stained-Glass — Examples  for  Painting — -Ex- 
amples of  Drapery  — Drawing  from  Nature  — 
Ornamental  Design. 


Examples  for  P aiming.— I have  already 
recommended  for  outline  work  the  splen- 
did reproductions  of  the  Garter  Plates  at 
Windsor.  It  is  more  difficult  to  find 
equally  good  examples  for  painting ; for 
if  one  had  what  one  wished  it  would  be 
photographed  from  ideal  painted  - glass 
or  else  from  cartoons  wisely  prepared 
for  glass-work.  But,  in  the  first  case, 
if  the  photographs  were  from  the  best 
ancient  glass — -even  supposing  one  could 
get  them — they  would  be  unsatisfactory 
for  two  reasons.  First,  because  ancient 
glass,  however  well  preserved,  has  lost  or 
gained  something  by  age  which  no  skill 
can  reproduce  ; and  secondly,  because 
however  beautiful  it  is,  all  but  the  very 
latest  (and  therefore  not  the  best)  is  im- 
mature in  drawing.  It  is  not  wise  to 
reproduce  those  errors.  The  things  them- 
x 321 


Hints  for 
the  Curri- 
culum of  a 
Technical 
School  for 
Stained- 
Glass 


Hints  for 
the  Curri- 
culum of  a 
Technical 
School  for 
Stained- 
Glass 


selves  look  beautiful  and  sincere  because 
the  old  worker  drew  as  well  as  he  could  ; 
but  if  we,  to  imitate  them,  draw  less  well 
than  we  can,  we  are  imitating  the  accidents 
of  his  production,  and  not  the  method  and 
'principle  of  it : the  principle  was  to  draw 
as  well  as  he  could,  and  we,  if  we  wish  to 
emulate  old  glass,  must  draw  as  well  as  we 
earn  For  examples  of  Heads  nothing  can 
be  better  than  photographs  from  Botticelli 
and  other  early  Tuscan,  and  from  the  early 
Siennese  painters.  Also  from  Holbein,  and 
chiefly  from  his  drawings.  There  is  a flat- 
ness and  firmness  of  treatment  in  all  these 
which  is  eminently  suited  to  stained-glass 
work.  Hands  also  may  be  studied  from 
the  same  sources,  for  though  Botticelli 
does  not  always  draw  hands  with  perfect 
mastery,  yet  he  very  often  does,  and  the 
expression  of  them,  as  of  his  heads,  is 
always  dignified  and  full  of  sweetness  and 
gentleness  of  feeling ; and  as  soon  as  we 
have  learnt  our  craft  so  as  to  copy  these 
properly,  the  best  thing  is  to  draw  hands 
and  heads  for  ourselves. 

Examples  of  Drapery. — To  me  there  is 
no  drapery  so  beautiful  and  appropriate 
for  stained-glass  work  in  the  whole  world 
of  art,  ancient  or  modern,  as  that  of  Burne- 
322 


Jones,  and  especially  in  his  studies  and 
drawings  and  cartoons  for  glass ; and  if 
these  are  not  accessible,  at  least  we  may 
pose  drapery  as  like  it  as  we  can,  and 
draw  it  ourselves  and  copy  it.  But  I 
would,  at  any  rate,  earnestly  warn  the 
student  against  the  “ crinkly  - crankly  ” 
drapery  imitated  from  Dttrer  and  his 
school,  which  fills  up  the  whole  panel 
with  wrinkles  and  “turnovers”  (the  linings 
of  a robe  which  give  an  opportunity  for 
changing  the  colour),  and  spreads  out 
right  and  left  and  up  and  down  till  the 
poor  bishop  himself  (and  in  nine  cases  out 
of  ten  it  is  a bishop,  so  that  he  may  be 
mitred  and  crosiered  and  pearl-bordered) 
becomes  a mere  peg  to  hang  vestments 
on,  and  is  made  short  and  dumpy  for 
that  end. 

There  is  a great  temptation  and  a great 
danger  here.  This  kind  of  work,  where 
every  inch  of  space  is  filled  with  orna- 
ment and  glitter,  and  change  and  variety 
and  richness,  is  indeed  in  many  ways  right 
and  good  for  stained  - glass ; which  is  a 
broken-up  thing  ; where  large  blank  spaces 
are  to  be  avoided,  and  where  each  little 
bit  of  glass  should  look  “ cared  for  ” and 
thought  of,  as  a piece  of  fine  jewellery  is 

323 


Hints  for 
the  Curri- 
culum of  a 
Technical 
School  for 
Stained- 
Glass 


Hints  for 
the  Curri- 
culum of  a 
Technical 
School  for 
Stained- 
Glass 


put  together  in  its  setting ; and  if  crafts- 
manship were  everything,  much  might  be 
said  for  these  methods.  There  is  in- 
deed plenty  of  stained -glass  of  the  kind 
more  beautiful  as  craftsmanship  than  any- 
thing since  the  Middle  Ages,  much  more 
beautiful  and  cunning  in  workmanship 
than  Burne-Jones,  and  yet  which  is 
little  else  but  vestments  and  curtains  and 
diaper — where  there  is  no  lesson  taught, 
no  subject  dwelt  on,  no  character  studied 
or  portrayed.  If  we  wish  it  to  be  so — if 
we  have  nothing  to  teach  or  learn,  if  we 
wish  to  be  let  alone,  to  be  soothed  and 
lulled  by  mere  sacred  trappings , by  pleasant 
colours  and  fine  and  delicate  sheen  and  the 
glitter  of  silk  and  jewels — well  and  good, 
these  things  will  serve ; but  if  they  fail  to 
satisfy,  go  to  St.  Philip's,  Birmingham, 
and  see  the  solemnities  and  tragedies  of 
Life  and  Death  and  Judgment,  and  all 
this  will  dwindle  down  into  the  mere 
upholstery  and  millinery  that  it  is. 

Drawing  from  Nature . — There  is  a side 
of  drawing  practice  almost  wholly  ne- 
glected in  schools,  which  consists,  not  in 
training  the  eye  and  hand  to  correctly 
measure  and  outline  spaces  and  forms, 
but  in  training  the  finger-ends  with  an 
324 


H.B.  pencil  point  at  the  end  of  them  to 
illustrate  texture  and  minute  detail.  It 
is  necessary  to  look  at  things  in  a large 
way,  but  it  is  equally  necessary  to  look  at 
them  in  a small  way ; to  be  able  to  count 
the  ribs  on  a blade  of  grass  or  a tiny  cockle- 
shell, and  to  give  them  in  pencil,  each  with 
its  own  light  and  shade.  I find  the  whole 
key  to  this  teaching  to  lie  in  one  golden 
rule — not  to  frighten  or  daunt  the  student 
with  big  tasks  at  first.  A single  grain  of 
wheat,  not  a whole  ear  of  corn ; some 
tiny  seed,  tiny  shell ; but  whatever  is 
chosen,  to  be  pursued  with  a needle- 
pointed  pencil  to  the  very  verge  of  lens- 
work.  I must  yet  again  quote  Ruskin. 
“You  have  noticed,”  he  says,1  “that  all 
great  sculptors,  and  most  of  the  great 
painters  of  Florence,  began  by  being  gold- 
smiths. Why  do  you  think  the  gold- 
smith’s apprenticeship  is  so  fruitful  ? Pri- 
marily, because  it  forces  the  boy  to  do 
small  work  and  mind  what  he  is  about. 
Do  you  suppose  Michael  Angelo  learned 
his  business  by  dashing  or  hitting  at  it  ? ” 
Ornamental  Design.  — It  is  impossible 
here  to  enter  into  a description  of  any 
system  of  teaching  ornament.  At  p.  294 

1 “ Ariadne  Florentina,”  p.  108. 

325 


Hints  for 
the  Curri- 
culum of  a 
Technical 
School  for 
Stained- 
Glass 


Hints  for 
the  Curri- 
culum of  a 
Technical 
School  for 
Stained- 
Glass 


I have  given  just  as  much  as  two  pages 
can  give  of  the  seed  from  which  such  a 
thing  may  spring.  In  some  of  the  collo- 
types from  the  finished  glass  the  patterns 
on  quarry  or  robe  which  spring  from  this 
seed  may  be  traced — very  imperfectly,  but 
as  well  as  the  scale  and  the  difficulties  of 
photography  and  the  absence  of  colour 
will  allow. 

What  I find  best,  in  commencing  with 
any  student,  is  to  start  four  practices 
together,  and  keep  them  going  together 
step  by  step,  side  by  side,  through  the 
course,  one  evening  for  each,  or  some  like 
division. 

Technical  Work . — Cutting,  glazing,  &c. 

P ainting  Work.— By  graduated  examples, 
from  simple  outline  up  to  a head  of  Botti- 
celli. 

Ornament , as  described  ; and 

Drawing  from  Nature , in  the  spirit  and 
methods  we  have  spoken  of. 

Moulding  the  whole  into  a system  of 
composition  and  execution,  tempered  and 
governed  as  it  goes  along  by  judiciously 
chosen  reading  and  reference  to  examples, 
ancient  or  modern. 


326 


NOTES  ON  THE 
COLLOTYPE  PLATES 


NOTES  ON  THE 
COLLOTYPE  PLATES 


Notes  on  It  is  obvious  that  stained-glass  cannot  be 
Collotypes  adequately  shown  in  book-illustration. 

For  instance,  we  cannot  have  either  the 
scale  of  it  or  the  colour — two  rather  vital 
exceptions.  These  collotypes  are,  there- 
fore, put  forth  as  mere  diagrams  for  the 
use  of  students,  to  call  their  attention  to 
certain  definite  points  and  questions  of 
treatment,  and  no  more  pretending  than 
if  they  were  black-board  drawings  to  give 
adequate  pictures  of  what  glass  can  be  or 
should  be. 

This  is  one  reason,  too,  for  the  omission 
of  all  attempt  to  reproduce  ancient  glass. 
It  was  felt  that  it  should  not  be  subjected 
to  the  indignity  of  such  very  imperfect 
representation,  and  especially  as  so  many 
much  larger  books  on  the  subject  exist, 
where  at  least  the  scale  is  not  so  ill-treated. 

328 


But,  besides,  if  one  once  began  illus- 
trating old  glass,  one  would  immediately 
seem  to  be  setting  standards  for  present- 
day  guidance,  and  this  could  only  be  done 
{if  done)  with  many  annotations  and  excep- 
tions and  with  a much  larger  range  of 
examples  than  is  possible  here. 

The  following  illustrations,  therefore, 
show  the  attempts  of  a group  of  workers 
who  have  endeavoured  to  carry  into  prac- 
tice the  principles  set  forth  in  this  book. 
It  has  not  been  found  possible  in  all  cases 
to  get  photographs  from  the  actual  glass — 
always  a very  difficult  thing  to  do.  The 
illustrations  can  be  seen  much  better  by  the 
aid  of  a moderately  strong  reading-lens. 

Plate  I.- — Fart  of  East  Window , St. 
Anselm's,  Wroodridings,  Pinner , by  Louis 
Davis.  The  design,  cartoons,  and  cut-line 
made,  all  the  glass  chosen  and  painted,  and 
the  leading  superintended  by  the  artist. 

Plate  II. — Another  portion  of  the  same 
window,  by  the  same.  Scenes  from  the  Life 
of  St.  Anselm.  Executed  under  the  same 
conditions  as  the  above.  The  freehand 
drawing  and  the  varying  thickness  of  the 
leads  in  the  quarry  work  should  be  noted. 

Plate  III.  — Window  in  St.  Peter  s 
Church,  Clapham  Road  — “ Blessed  are 

329 


Notes  on 
Collotypes 


Notes  on  they  that  Mourn”  by  Reginald  Hallward. 

Collotypes  The  whole  of  the  work  in  this  instance, 
including  cutting,  leading,  &c.,  is  done  by 
the  artist  himself.  As  an  instance  of  how 
little  photography  can  do,  it  is  worth  while 
to  describe  such  a small  item  as  the  scroll 
above  the  figure.  This  is  of  glass  most 
carefully  selected  (or  most  skilfully  treated 
with  acid),  so  that  the  ground  work  varies 
from  silvery-white  to  almost  a pansy- 
purple,  and  on  this  the  verse  is  illuminated 
in  tones  varying  from  pale  primrose  to 
the  ruddiest  gold  — the  whole  forming 
a passage  of  lovely  colour  impossible  to 
achieve  by  any  system  of  “ copying.”  It 
is  work  like  this  and  the  preceding  that 
is  referred  to  on  p.  266. 

Plate  IV. — Central  'part  of  Window  in 
Cobham  Church , Kent , by  Reginald  Hallward , 
Executed  under  the  same  conditions  as 
the  preceding. 

Plate  V. — Fart  of  Window  in  Ardrahan 
Church)  Galway — “ St.  Robert ,”  by  Selwyn 
Image.  From  the  cartoon.  See  p.  83. 

Plate  VI. — Two  Designs  for  Domestic 
Glass , by  Miss  M.  J.  Newill.  From  the 
cartoons. 

Plate  VII.  — “ The  Dream  of  St. 
Kenelmf  by  H.  A.  Payne.  The  author 

330 


had  the  pleasure  of  watching  this  work 
daily  while  in  progress.  It  was  done 
entirely  by  the  artist’s  own  hand,  by  way 
of  a specimen  “ masterpiece”  of  craftsman- 
ship, and  the  aim  was  to  use  to  the  full 
extent  every  resource  of  the  material. 

Plate  VIII. — Six  “ Quarries  ” — “ Day 
and  Night”  “ The  Spirit  on  the  Face  of  the 
Waters ,”  “ Creation  of  Birds  and  Fishes ,” 
“ Eden,”  and  “ The  F arable  of  the  Good 
Seed,”  by  Pupils  of  H . A.  Payne , Birming- 
ham School  of  Art . These  lose  very  much 
by  reduction,  and  should  be  seen  with  a 
lens  magnifying  2-^  diameters.  They  are 
the  designs  of  the  pupils  themselves  (boys 
in  their  teens),  and  are  examples  of  bold 
outline  untouched  after  tracing.  They  are 
more  elaborate  than  would  be  desirable 
for  ordinary  quarry  glazing;  being  in- 
tended for  interior  work  on  a screen, 
to  be  seen  close  at  hand  with  borrowed 
light. 

Plate  IX.— Micro  - photographs,  i.  A 
piece  of  outline  that  has  “fried”  in  the  kiln. 
Magnified  20  diameters.  See  p.  104. 

2.  A small  Diamond  seen  from  above. 
Magnified  10J  diameters.  The  white 
horizontal  line  is  the  cutting  edge. 

3.  A larger  Diamond  that  has  been  “ re - 

33i 


Notes  on 
Collotypes 


Notes  on 
Collotypes 


set?'  That  is  to  say,  re-ground:  the 
diagonal  marks  like  a St.  Andrew’s  Cross 
show  the  grinding  down  of  the  old  facets 
by  which  the  new  cutting  edge  has  been 
produced.  Magnified  io|  diameters. 

4.  No.  2 seen  from  the  side.  Magnified 
10^  diameters;  the  cutting  edge  faces 
towards  the  left. 

Plate  X. — Micro-photographs  of  Glass- 
cutting. Very  difficult  to  explain.  “A” 
is  a sheet  of  glass  seen  in  section  multiplied 
15-^  diameters.  The  black  marks  along 
the  top  edge  are  diamond-cuts,  good  and 
bad,  coming  straight  towards  the  spectator. 
The  two  outside  ones  are  very  had  cuts,  far 
too  violent,  and  have  split  off  the  surface 
of  the  glass.  Of  the  two  inner  ones  the 
left-hand  one  is  an  ideally  good  cut,  no 
disturbance  of  the  surface  having  occurred  ; 
the  right-hand  a fairly  good  one,  but  a 
little  unnecessarily  hard.  Passing  over 
B for  the  present- — C is  a similar  piece  of 
glass  (also  magnified  1 5^  diameters,  with 
wheel-cuts  seen  endwise  (coming  towards 
the  spectator).  The  one  on  the  left  is 
a very  bad  cut,  the  surface  of  the  glass 
having  actually  split  off  in  flakes,  the  next 
to  it  is  a perfect  cut  where  the  surface  is 
intact,  and  note  that  though  not  a quarter 

332 


so  much  pressure  has  been  employed,  the 
split  downward  into  the  glass  is  deeper 
and  sharper  than  in  the  violent  cut  to 
the  left,  as  is  also  the  case  with  the 
two  other  moderately  good  cuts  to  the 
right. 

D,  E — Wheel-cuts.  In  these  we  are 

looking  down  upon  the  surface  of  the 
glass.  They  are  bad  cuts,  multiplied 
20  diameters ; the  direction  of  the  cut  is 
from  left  to  right.  In  the  upper  figure 
the  flake  of  glass  is  split  completely  off 
but  is  still  lying  in  its  place.  In  the 
lower  one  the  left-hand  half  is  split,  and 
the  right-hand  only  partially  so,  remaining 
so  closely  attached  to  the  body  of  the  glass 
as  to  show  (and  in  an  especially  beautiful 
and  perfect  manner)  the  rainbow-tinted 
“Newton’s  rings”  which  accompany  the 
phenomenon  of  “ Interference,”  for  an 
explanation  of  which  I must  refer  the 
reader  to  an  encyclopaedia  or  some  work 
on  optics.  Good  cuts  seen  from  above 
are  simply  lines  like  a hair  upon  the  glass, 
but  the  diamond-cut  is  a coarser  hair  than 
the  wheel-cut. 

If  you  now  hold  the  illustration  upside 
down , what  then  becomes  the  top  edge  of 
section  C shows  a wheel-cut  seen  side- 

333 


Notes  on 
Collotypes 


Notes  on  ways  along  the  section  of  the  glass  which 
Collotypes  has  divided,  the  direction  of  this  cut 
being  from  left  to  right. 

In  the  same  way  section  “ A ” seen 
upside  down  gives  the  appearance  of  a 
diamond- cut,  also  from  left  to  right,  and 
multiplied  15^  diameters,  while  “ B ” held 
in  the  same  position  gives  the  same  cut 
multiplied  78  diameters.  The  nature  of 
these  things  is  discussed  at  p.  48. 

In  their  natural  colour,  and  under  strong 
light,  they  are  very  beautiful  objects  under 
the  microscope.  Even  a 10 -diameter 
“ Steinheil  lens,”  or  still  better  its  English 
equivalent,  a Nelson  lens,  will  show  them 
fairly,  and  some  such  instrument,  opening 
out  a new  world  of  beauty  beyond  the 
power  of  ordinary  vision,  ought,  one  would 
think,  to  be  one  of  the  possessions  of 
every  artist  and  lover  of  Nature. 

The  illustrations  that  follow  are  from 
the  work  of  the  author  and  his  pupils 
conjointly.  Those  in  which  no  design  has 
been  added  are  for  clearness’  sake  described 
as  “ by  the  author  ” ; but  it  is  to  be  under- 
stood that  in  all  instances  the  transcribing 
of  the  work  in  the  glass  has  been  the 
work  of  pupils  under  his  supervision. 
All  design  of  diaper,  canopy,  lettering, 

334 


and  quarries  is  so,  in  all  the  examples 
selected. 

Plate  XI. — From  Gloucester  Cathedral — 
“ St.  Boniface ,”  by  the  author  and  his  pupils. 

Plate  XII. — From  the  same  — “ The 
Stork  of  Iona  ” and  “ The  Infant  Church  ,” 
by  the  same.  Canopies  from  Oak  and  Ivy. 

Plate  XIII. — Portion  of  a Window  in 
progress  ( destined  for  Ashbourne  Church ),  by 
the  author.  This  has  been  specially  photo- 
graphed on  the  easel,  to  show  how  near,  by 
the  use  of  false  leadlines,  &c.,  the  work 
can  be  got,  during  its  progress,  to  approach 
to  its  actual  conditions  when  finished. 

Plate  XIV.— Drawings  from  Nature , by 
the  author* s pupils.  Pieced  together  from 
various  drawings  by  three  different  hands  ; 
made  in  preparation  for  design  of  Oak 
“canopy.”  See  p.  324  and  Plate  XI. 

Plate  XV. — Part  of  East  Window  of 
School  Chapel,  Tonbridge,  by  the  author. 
From  the  cartoon : the  figure  playing  the 
dulcimer  is  underneath  the  manger,  above 
which  is  seated  the  Virgin  and  Child. 

Plate  XVI. — Figure  of  one  of  the  Choir 
of  “ Dominations From  Gloucester,  by  the 
author  and  his  pupils. 

The  names  of  the  pupils  whose  work 
appears  in  Plate  VIII.  are  J.  H.  Saunders 

335 


Notes  on 
Collotypes 


Notes  on 
Collotypes 


and  R.  J.  Stubington.  In  Plate  XIV.  A. 
E.  Child,  K.  Parsons,  and  J.  H.  Stanley ; 
and  in  the  Plates  XI.  to  XVI.  J.  Brett, 
L.  Brett,  A.  E.  Child,  P.  R.  Edwards,  M. 
Hutchinson,  K.  Parsons,  J.  H.  Stanley, 
J.  E.  Tarbox,  and  E.  A.  Woore.  The 
cuts  in  the  text  are  by  K.  Parsons  and 
E.  A.  Woore. 


336 


337 


:fri?noctuqs<uiror 


II.— Part  of  Window.  St.  Anselm’s,  Woodridings,  Pinner. 


339 


III. — Window.  St.  Peter’s  Church,  Clapham. 


341 


IV.— Part  of  Window.  Cobham  Church,  Kent. 


343 


V.— Part  of  Window.  Ardrahan,  Galway. 


VI.— From  Cartoons  for  Domestic  Glass. 


VII.— Window.  “The  Dream  of  St.  Kenelm. 


35o 


VIII.— Quarries.  (Size  of  originals,  by  4 ins.) 


352 


IX.— Micro-photographs  from  details  connected  with  Glass  Work. 


353 


X. — Micro-photographs.  Diamond  and  Wheel  Cuts  seen 
in  Section  and  Plan. 


355 


Gloucester  Cathedral. 


XI. — Part  of  Window. 


357 


XII. — Part  of  Window.  Gloucester  Cathedral. 


XIV.— Drawing’s  from  Nature,  in  Preparation  for  Design. 


364 


XV.— Part  of  Window.  Tonbridge  School  Chapel,  photographed 
from  the  Cartoon. 


366 


XVI.— Part  of  Window.  Gloucester  Cathedral. 


368 


GLOSSARY 


Antiques , coloured  glasses  made  in  imitation  of  the 
qualities  of  ancient  glass. 

Banding , putting  on  the  copper  “ties”  by  which  the 
glazed  light  is  attached  to  the  supporting  bars. 

Base , ( I ) the  light-tinted  glass,  white,  greenish  or 
yellow,  on  which  the  thin  film  of  ruby  or  blue 
is  imposed  in  “flashed”  glasses;  (2)  the  sup- 
port of  the  niche  on  which  the  figure  stands  in 
“ canopy  work.” 

Borrowed  lights  a light  not  coming  direct  from  day- 
light, but  from  the  interior  light  of  a building  as 
in  the  case  of  a screen  of  glass.  (The  result  is 
similar  when  a window  is  seen  against  near  back- 
ground of  trees  or  buildings. ) 

Calm  (of  lead),  the  strip  of  lead,  3 to  4 feet  long,  as 
used  for  leading  up  the  glass. 

Canopy  or  “tabernacle  work,”  the  architectural  fram- 
ing in  imitation  of  a carved  niche  in  which  the 
figure  is  placed.  The  vertical  supports  (sometimes 
used  alone  to  frame  in  the  whole  light)  are  called 
“ shafting.” 

Cartoon , the  design  of  the  window,  full  size,  on  paper. 

Chasuble , the  outermost  sacrificial  vestment  of  a bishop 
or  priest. 

369 


Glossary 


2 A 


Glossary  Cope , the  outermost  ceremonial  and  processional  vest- 

ment of  a bishop  or  priest. 

Core  (of  lead),  the  cross-bar  of  the  “H”  section  as 
shown  in  fig.  34. 

Crocketting , the  ornamenting  of  any  architectural  member 
at  intervals  with  sculptured  bosses  or  crockets. 

Gullet,  the  waste  cuttings  of  glass.  Generally  used 
over  again  in  greater  or  less  quantity  as  an  ingre- 
dient in  the  making  of  new  glass. 

Cut-line , the  tracing  (containing  the  lead-lines  only) 
by  which  the  work  is  cut  and  glazed. 

Flux , the  solvent  which  assists  the  melting  of  the 
metallic  pigments  in  the  kiln.  Various  materials 
are  used,  e.g.  silica  and  lead,  but  unfortunately 
borax  also  is  used,  and  I would  warn  the  student 
to  buy  no  pigment  without  a guarantee  from  the 
manufacturer  that  it  does  not  contain  this  tempt- 
ing but  very  dangerous  and  unstable  ingredient. 
(See  p.  1 12). 

Form , the  sheet  of  “ continuous  cartridge  ” or  cartoon 
paper  on  which  the  dimensions,  &c.,  are  marked 
out  for  drawing  the  cartoon. 

Gauge , ( 1 ) the  shaped  piece  of  paper  by  which  the 
diamond  is  guided  in  cutting;  (2)  the  standard 
of  size  and  shape  in  any  piece  of  repeated  work 
(as  quarry-glazing). 

Grisaille  (from  Fr.  gris , grey),  work  where  a pattern, 
generally  geometrical,  in  narrow  coloured  bands, 
is  supermiposed  on  a background  of  whitish, 
grey,  or  greenish  glass  diapered  with  painted 
work  in  outline  or  slight  shading. 

Groseing,  the  biting  away  the  edge  of  the  glass  with 
pliers  to  make  it  fit.  With  regard  to  this  word 
and  to  the  term  “ calm,”  I have  never  found  any 
one  who  could  give  a reason  for  the  name  or  an 
authority  as  to  its  spelling,  the  various  spellings 

370 


Sliggcstcd  for  the  latter  word  including  Karm, 
Calm,  Carm,  Kaim,  and  even  Qualm  ! But  while 
writing  this  book  I in  lucky  hour  consulted  the 
treatise  of  Theophilus,  and  was  delighted  to  find 
both  words.  The  term  he  applies  to  the  leads  is 
“ Calamus  ” (a  reed),  while  his  term  for  what 
we  should  call  pliers  is  “ Grosarium  ferrum  ” 
(groseing  iron).  So  that  this  question  is  set  at 
rest  for  ever.  Glaziers  must  henceforth  accept 
the  classic  spellings  “ Calm  ” and  “ Groseing, ” 
and  one  may  suppose  they  will  be  proud  to  learn 
that  these  everyday  terms  of  their  craft  have 
been  in  use  for  900  years,  and  are  older  than 
Westminster  Abbey. 

Lath , the  ruler,  3 to  8 feet  long,  and  marked  with 
inches,  &c.,  used  in  setting  out  the  “forms.” 

Lathykin,  doubtless  old  English  “a  little  lath,”  de- 
scribed p.  j 3 7- 

Las  ting-nails,  described  p.  141. 

Leaf  (of  lead),  the  two  uprights  of  the  “ H ” section 

(fig-  34)- 

Muller , a piece  of  granite  or  glass,  flat  at  the  base, 
for  grinding  pigment,  &c. 

Obtuse , an  angle  having  a wider  opening  than  a right- 
angle  or  “perpendicular.” 

Orphreys  ( aurifrigia , from  Lat.  aurum , gold),  the 
bands  of  ornament  on  ecclesiastical  vestments. 

Patina , the  film  produced  on  various  substances  by 
chemical  action  (oxidation,  sulphurisation,  &c.), 
either  artificially,  as  in  bronze  sculpture,  or  by 
age,  as  in  glass. 

Plating , the  doubling  of  one  glass  with  another  in  the 
same  lead. 

Quarries , the  diamond,  square,  or  other  shaped  panes 
used  in  plain-glazing. 

Reamy,  wavy  or  streaky  glass.  (Seep.  179*) 

37 1 


Glossary 


Glossary  Scratch-card,  a wire  brush  to  remove  tarnish  from  lead 
before  soldering  (p.  144). 

Setting , fixing  a charcoal  or  chalk  drawing  on  the 
paper  by  means  of  a spray  of  fixative. 

Shafting , see  “Canopy.” 

Shooting  (in  carpentry),  the  planing  down  of  an  edge 
to  get  it  truly  straight. 

Squaring-out , enlarging  (or  reducing)  any  design  by 
drawing  from  point  to  point  across  proportional 
squares. 

Stippling , described  p.  100. 

Stopping -knife,  the  knife  by  which  the  glass  and  lead 
are  manipulated  in  leading-up. 

Tabernacle  work,  see  “ Canopy.” 

Template,  the  form  in  paper,  card,  wood,  or  zinc,  of 
shaped  openings,  by  which  the  correct  figure  is 
set  out  on  the  cartoon-form. 


INDEX 


INDEX 


Index 


Accidental  qualities  in  glass, 
value  of,  1 14 

Accuracy  in  setting  out 
forms,  286 

Accuracy  of  measurement, 

”5,  285 

Accuracy  of  work  in  the 
shop,  rules  for,  formula 
for  right  angles,  286 

Aciding,  130 

Action,  violent,  to  be 
avoided,  173 

Advertising,  293 

Allegory,  248 

Allegory,  true  allegory  the 
presentment  of  noble 
natures,  260 

Ancient  buildings,  sacred- 
ness of,  245 

Ancient  glass,  171,  314,  321, 
328 

“ Antique  ” glasses,  3 1 

Architectural  fitness,  234 

Architecture,  harmony  with, 
174 

Architecture,  stained  - glass 
accessory  to,  168 

Architecture,  subservient  to, 

1 55»  236 

Armour,  by  use  of  aciding 
in  flashed  blue  glass, 
I3I 

374 


Art  colours,  201 
Artist,  right  claim  to  the 
title,  269 

“Asleep,”  Millais’  picture 
of,  209 

Assistants,  to  be  trained  to 
mastership,  268 
Auxerre,  centre  for  study  of 
glass,  315 

Backing,  126 
Badger,  72,  74 
Badger,  how  to  dry,  193 
Banding,  15 1 

Barff’s  formula  for  pigment, 
226 

Bars,  151,  159,  167 
Bars  and  lead-lines,  166, 
176 

“Beads,”  a string  of,  290 
Beethoven,  colour,  224,  271 
Bicycle,  use  of,  216 
Birds,  217 

Birmingham,  Burne  - Jones 
windows,  236,  324 
Boniface,  St.,  a question  of 
staining,  224 
Books,  255,  257 
Borax,  untrustworthy  as 
flux,  370 

Borrowed  light,  227  (and 
Glossary) 


Index 


Botticelli,  64,  78,  250,  297, 
322 

Brown,  Madox,  203 
Brush,  how  to  fill,  58 
Builders’  glazing,  180 
Buntingford,  ride  from,  216 
Burne-Jones,  131,  203,  236, 
250,  324 
Burning,  129 
Burnt  umber,  203 
Butterfly,  217 

“Byzantium  of  the  crafts,” 

243 

Byzantine  revival,  241 

“Calm”  of  lead,  137  (and 
Glossary) 

Cambridge,  Burne-Jones 
windows,  237 

Cambridge,  centre  for  study 
of  glass,  314 

Cambridge,  King’s  College, 
for  blue  and  red,  230 
Canopies,  245 
Canopy,  177,  300 
Canterbury,  centre  for  study 
of  glass,  314 

Canterbury,  for  blue  and 
red,  230 

Cartoons,  83,  192 
Cathedrals,  178,  180,  215, 
230,  234,238,246,282,  314 
Cellini,  228 

Cement  and  cementing,  147 
Centres  for  study  of  glass, 
3 H,  3r5 

Chartres,  centre  for  study  of 
glass,  230,  314 
Chartres,  for  blue  and  red, 
230 

Chief  difficulty  (in  art)  the 
chief  opportunity,  301 
Chopin,  223 

Cirencester  windows,  180 
Cleanliness,  67,  164,  193 


Clients,  279 

Collotypes, notes  on,  327-336 
Colour,  198-231 
Comfort  in  work,  67 
Commission,  one’s  first,  292 
Conditions,  importance  of 
ascertaining  at  commence- 
ment, 283 

Conduct,  general,  264 
Constantine  and  Byzantium, 
240 

Co-operation,  163,  265,  268, 
274-6 

Corn-colour,  217-218 
Countercharging,  94 
Covering  up  the  pigment, 
164 

Craft,  complete  teaching  of, 
174,  197 

Craftsman,  right  claims  to 
the  title,  269 

Craftsmanship,  revival  of, 
243  ; Middle  Ages,  252 
Cullet,  value  of,  159 
Curriculum,  321-326 
Cut-in  glass,  49 
Cut-line,  85,  89 
Cutter  and  cartoonist,  44 
Cutting,  37,  42,  47,  87,  162 
Cutting,  advanced,  83 
Cutting-knife,  138 
Cutting-wheel  (see  Wheel- 
cutter) 

Dahlia,  colour  of,  218 
Dante  or  Blake,  perhaps 
needed  to-day,  253 
Dante  on  Constantine,  240 
Dappling,  163 
Dentist,  precision  of  a,  67 
Design,  167,  175,  325 
Diamond,  33,  88,  331 
Difficulty  conquered  brings 
new  insight  and  new 
power,  302 


375 


Index 


Difficulty,  the  chief  oppor- 
tunity in  a work  of  art,  282 
Directing  assistants,  clear- 
ness in,  promptness  in,  277 
Discords  harmonised  by 
added  notes,  212 
Distance,  effect  of,  102,  192 
Division  of  labour,  170,  269 
Docketing  of  papers,  system 
of,  284 

Dodges,  a few  little,  182 
Doubling  glass,  132 
Drapery,  230,  322 
Drawing  from  Nature,  324 
Drawing,  Ruskin’s  advice 
on  fineness  in  work,  325 
Du  Maurier,  207 
Diirer,  revision  of  his  work, 
271 

Dutch  artist’s  portrait  of 
actress,  220 

u Early  English  ” glass,  31, 
227 

Easels,  186,  19 1 
Eccentricity  to  be  avoided, 
247 

Economy,  156,  158 
Egyptians,  182 
English  wastefulness,  156 
Etching  (see  Adding) 
Examples  for  painting,  321 
Examples  for  stained-glass 
work,  Holbein,  322 
Expression,  influence  of 
distance  on,  102 

Faceting  of  stones  and  glass, 
228,  332 

Fairford,  green  in  Eve 
window,  21 1,  230 
Fairford,  old  glass  in,  314 
False  lead-lines,  166 
Fame  and  wealth  good,  but 
not  atexpenseof  work,  296 

376 


Fancy,  safe  guide  in,  259 
Film,  94,  101 
Fine  work  in  art,  298-303 
Finish  in  work,  precision 
and  cleanliness,  67 
Firing,  105-119 
First  duty  of  an  artist,  248 
Five  Sisters  window,  178, 
31 1 

Fixing,  135,  151 
“ Flashed  ” glass,  33 
Flatness,  desirable,  obtained 
by  leading,  176 
Flowers,  217 
Flux,  370 

Forms,  accuracy  of,  286- 
289 

Fresh  methods  and  ideas 
come  accidentally,  298 
Freshness  of  work,  advant- 
age of,  1 16 

Fried  work,  how  to  remove, 
104 

Frying,  104 

Garish  colour,  202 
Garter  plates,  61,  62,  70,  71 
Gas-kiln,  108-10 
Gauge  for  cutting,  how  to 
make,  88 

General  conduct,  264 
Giotto,  252 
Giorgione,  203 
Glass,  ancient,  328 
Glass,  how  made,  32 
Glass,  how  to  wax  up  on 
plate,  95 

Glass  in  relation  to  stone- 
work, 134 

Glass,  Munich,  84,  176 
Glass,  Norman,  227 
Glass,  old,  308,  315 
Glass,  painted,  84 
Glass-painter’s  methods  de- 
scribed, 205 


Glass  - painting  compared 
with  mezzotint,  81 
Glass  - painting  compared 
with  oil-painting,  200 
Glass,  Prior’s,  31 
Glass,  value  of  accidental 
qualities  in,  114 
Glasses,  “ antique,”  31 
Glazing,  15 1,  180 
Glossary,  369 

Gloucester  for  blue  and  red, 
230 

Gloucester,  centre  for  study 
of  glass,  314 
“ God’s  house,”  235 
Gold  pink,  value  of,  160 
Good  Shepherd,  172 
Gothic  revival,  the,  '39 
Groseing,  43  (and  Glossary) 
Groseing  tool,  substitute 
for,  55 

“ Grozeing”  (see  Groseing) 
Gum-arabic,  58 
Gum,  quality  and  quantity 
of,  77 

Handel,  223 

Handling  leaded  lights,  146 
Hand-rest,  61 

Harmony  in  colour,  the 
great  rule  of,  2 1 1 
Harmony,  universal,  234 
Harmony  with  architecture, 
174 

Heaton’s  kiln-feeder,  184 
Hertfordshire,  ride  through, 

2 1 5 

Holbein,  64,  78,  316,  322 
Hollander,  thrift  of,  157 
Hurry  to  be  avoided,  165 
Hyacinths  and  leaves, 
colour  of,  221 

Image,  Selwyn,  83 
Imagination,  248,  259 


Industry,  65,  278 
In  situ , to  try  work,  175 
Inspiration,  nature  of,  dis- 
cussed, 273 
Italian,  thrift  of,  157 

“ Jacob’s  ladder,”  difficulty, 
280 

Joints,  good  and  bad,  140 
Jugglery,  craft,  to  be 
avoided,  174 

Kaleidoscope,  232 
Kiln-feeder,  a clumsy,  183 
Kilns,  105 

King,  portrait  of,  102 
Knives, cutting  and  stopping, 
138,  142 

“ Knocking  up,”  144 

Labour  and  material,  cost  of, 
162 

Lamb,  Charles,  on  Milton’s 
Lycidas , 272 

Large  work,  difficulty  of,  77 
L' Art  Nouveau , 245 
Lasting  nails,  141 
Lathykin,.  137  (and  Glos- 
sary) 

Lea  Valley,  description  of, 

2i5 

j Lead,  89 

' Lead,  “calm”  of,  137  (and 
Glossary) 

Lead,  90,  132,  137 
Lead-line,  84,  172 
Lead-lines,  false,  166 
Lead-mill,  91 
Lead,  purity  of,  90 
Lead, outer  lead  showing,  136 
Leaded  lights,  how  to 
handle,  146 
Leading,  133 

Leadwork,  artistic  use  of, 
176 


Index 


377 


Index 


Leadworkers,  wage  of,  159 
Light,  227  (and  Glossary) 
Lights,  72,  146,  151 
Limitations,  154,  170 
Linnell’s  colour,  202 
Lycidas , perfection  of,  271 
Lyndhurst,  windows  at, 
237,  250 

Maclou,  St.,  at  Rouen,  282 
Man’s  work,  nature  of,  196 
Master,  book  no  substitute 
for,  82 

Master,  need  of,  82,  195 
Material  and  labour,  cost  of, 
162 

Matting,  72 
Matting-brush,  73,  75 
Matting  over  unfired  out- 
line, 76 

“ Measure  thrice,  cut  once,” 
285 

Measurement,  accuracy  of, 

”5,285 

Measurement,  relation  of 
glass  to  the  stonework, 
134 

Meistersingers,  the,  223 
Mezzotint  compared  with 
glass-painting,  81 
Michael  Angelo,  271 
Middle  Ages,  craftsmanship 
of,  252 

Millais’  picture  of  ‘ ‘ Asleep,” 
209 

“ Millinery  and  upholstery  ” 
in  glass,  to  avoid,  324 
Morris,  203 
Muller,  79 

Munich  glass,  84,  176 
Music,  illustration  derived 
from,  223 

Nails,  141 

Nativity,  star  of,  229 

378 


Nature,  213,  217,  302,  324, 
335 

Neatness,  96 
Needle,  68,  123 
New  College,  230 
Niggling,  no  use  in,  158 
“ Nimbus,”  withheld  till  the 
figure  is  finished,  263 
‘‘Norman  ” glass,  227 
Novelty  not  essential  to 
originality,  247 
Numbers  attached  to  natural 
objects,  221 

Oil-painting  and  glass- 
painting compared,  198 
Oil  stone,  substitutes  for,  53 
Old  glass,  171,  308,  314,  321 
Orange-tip  butterfly,  214 
Order,  “ Heaven’s  first  law,” 
233 

Orderliness,  284 
Originality  not  to  be  striven 
after,  297 

Ornament,  system  of  teach- 
ing, 325 
Outline,  59-82 
Overpainting,  danger  of, 
120 

Oxford,  centre  for  study  of 
glass,  314 

Oxford,  New  College,  for 
green,  230 
Oxide  ( see  Pigment) 

Painted  glass,  84 
Painter  and  glass-painter 
contrasted,  199 
Painting,  56,  94,  118,  321 
Painting,  heaviness  of,  ob- 
jected to  by  some,  227 
Painting,  rule  regarding 
amount  of,  229 
Pansy,  colour  of,  232 
Patrons,  264 


Parthenon  frieze,  repose  of, 

*73 

Perfection,  163 
Perpendicular,  rules  for  rais- 
ing a,  286 

Peterborough, Gothic  tracery 
in  Norman  openings,  238 
Pictures,  criticism  on,  208 
Pigment,  164,  226 
Pigment,  mixture  of,  57 
Pigment,  oxide  of  iron,  57 
Pigment,  soft,  danger  of,  1 1 2 
Pigment,  unpleasant  red,  57 
Plain  glazing,  removing,  15 1 
Plating,  147 
Pliers,  43 
Poppies,  218 

Prices  of  stained  glasses,  159 
Principles  of  old  work  to 
be  imitated,  not  accidents, 
322 

Prior’s  glass,  31 
Publicity,  danger  of  wasting 
time  on  pursuit  of,  296 
Punch , parody  of  the  “Palace 
of  Art,”  250 
Pupils’  work,  335 
Putty,  substitute  for  cement 
in  plated  work,  318 
Putty,  to  be  used  when  glass 
is  doubled,  147 

Quarries,  331 

Quarry  glazing,  with  sub- 
ject, 177 

Rack  for  glass  samples,  186 
Realism  to  be  avoided,  173 
Recasting  of  composition, 
301 

Removing  the  plain  glazing, 

I5I  . 

Repose  in  architectural  art, 
174 

Rest  for  hand,  61 


Restoration,  181,  245,  315 
Resurrection,  sunrise  in,  219 
Revivals,  architectural,  239 
Rich  and  plain  work,  177 
Right  angles,  formula  for, 
286 

Roman  decadence,  240 
Room,  to  make  the  most  of, 
192 

Rose-briar,  colour  of,  in  sun- 
set, 220 
Rossetti,  203 
Ruby  glass,  33 
Ruby  glass,  value  of,  160 
“ Rule  of  thumb,”  113 
Rules  for  work,  264,  286 
Ruskin,  202,  255,  325 

Sacredness  of  ancient  build- 
ings, 245 
Schubert,  223 
“Scratch-card,”  144 
Scrubs,  81 
Sea- weeds,  217 
Second  painting,  118,  126, 
I27 

Sections,  how  to  join  to- 
gether in  fixing,  150 
Sections,  large  work  made 
in,  150 

“ Seed,”  everything  grown 
from,  291 

Seed  of  ornament,  294 
Selvage  edge,  to  tear  off,  193 
Sens,  centre  for  study  of 
glass,  315 

Setting  mixture,  86 
Sharpening  diamonds,  33 
Siennese  painters,  good  work 
to  copy  in  glass,  322 
Single  fire,  127 
Sketching  in  glass,  175 
Soldering,  144 
Sparta,  revival  of  simplicity 
in,  243 


Index 


379 


Index 


Special  glasses,  227 
Spotting,  163 

Spring  morning,  ride  on  a, 
214 

Squaring  outlines,  286 
Stain,  129 
“ Stain  it ! ” 225 
Stain  overfiring,  result  of, 
129 

Stained-glass,  accessory  to 
architecture,  168 
Stained-glass,  ancient,  to  be 
held  sacred,  245 
Stained-glass,  definition  and 
description  of,  29 
Stained-glass,  diapering, 
spotting,  and  streaking, 
179 

Stained-glass,  joys  of,  303 
Stained-glass,  loving  and 
careful  treatment  of,  177 
Stained-glass,  new  develop- 
ments of,  1 32 

Stained-glass,  prices  of 
material,  159 

Stained-glass,  subservient  to 
architecture,  155,  236 
Stained-glass  versus  painted 
glass,  84 
Staining,  225 

Stale  colour,  danger  of, 
165 

Stale  work,  disadvantage  of, 
114 

Standardising,  113 
Stencil  brush,  121 
Stepping  back  to  inspect 
work,  176 

Stevenson,  R.  L.,  156 
Stick,  68 
Stipple,  99,  101 
Stippling  brush,  100 
Stonework,  relation  of  glass 
to,  134 

Stopping-knife,  142 

38° 


Streaky  glass,  imitating 
drapery,  230 

Strength  in  painting,  limits 
of,  125 

Stretching  the  lead,  137 
Style,  237,  246 
Subject,  right  limits  to  im- 
portance of,  248 
Sufficient  firing,  test  of,  117 
Sugar  or  treacle  as  substitute 
for  gum,  62 

Surgeon,  precision  of  a,  67 
Symbolism,  proportion  in, 
262 

Tabernacle  {see  Canopy) 
Tamworth,  237 
Tapping,  41 

Taste,  some  principles  of,  92 
Technical  school,  curricu- 
lum of,  321 

Templates  to  be  verified, 
289 

Tennyson,  his  constant  re- 
vision, 271 

Texture  of  glass,  use  of,  126 
Theseus,  260 

Thought,  imagination,  alle- 
gory, 248 

Ties  for  banding,  15 1 
Thrift,  157 

Time  saved  by  accuracy  and 
method,  290 

Time-saving  appliances,  277 
Tinning  the  soldering  iron, 
H5 

Tints,  method  of  choosing, 
210 

Titian,  173,  203,  271,  316 
Tradition,  238,  242 
Troyes,  centre  for  study  of 
glass,  315 

Trying  work  in  situ , 175 
Turgenieff,  proverb  on  accu- 
racy, 285 


Turpentine  (Venice),  129 
Tuscan  painters,  good  work 
to  copy  in  glass,  322 

“ Upholstery  and  millinery  ” 
in  glass,  to  avoid,  324 

Venus  of  Milo,  260 
Veronese,  203 

Village  church,  untouched, 
picture  of,  305 
Violent  action  to  be  avoided, 
173 

Wage  of  leadworkers,  159 
Waste,  proportion  of,  to 
finished  work,  162 
Wastefulness,  English,  156 
Wax,  best,  95 

Wax,  removing  spots  of,  98 
Waxing-up,  95 


Waxing-up,  tool  for,  188 

Wells,  centre  for  study  of 
glass,  314 

Wheel-barrow,  comparison 
with  wheel-cutter,  51 

Wheel-cutters,  34,  35,  47, 

53,  54,  56 

White,  pure,  value  of,  227 

White  spaces  to  be  interest- 
ing, 178 

Work  in  the  shop,  rules  for, 
286 

Yellow  and  red  together, 
218 

Yellow,  certain  tints  hard 
to  obtain,  217 

Yellow  stain,  129 

York,  centre  for  study  of 
glass,  314 

York  Minster,  glass  in,  230, 
308,  313 


Index 


THE  END 


Printed  by  Ballantyne,  Hanson  &=  Co. 
Edinburgh  <5r»  London 


